


Home for Worn Hearts

by Rae_Trail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Good Weasleys, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Post TDH, Powerful Harry, Ron Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Trail/pseuds/Rae_Trail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry retrieves Snape from the Shrieking Shack and defies wizarding Britain to save him... but why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I never believed in SS dying like that. What kind of wizard can't fight off a snake?

"He's a known Death Eater, Harry! You simply can't keep him here, unguarded and unrestrained! I have to take him into custody. If what you say is true, it will come out at his trial."

The thought of a trial made Harry shudder. He lost the thread of his conversation with Kingsley, turning to gaze down at Severus Snape, still unconscious in a bed in a private side-ward of Hogwarts' infirmary, where Harry and Poppy had brought him after the final battle.

The bandages on Snape’s throat and arms were almost as white as his skin. The blood had been washed carefully away, by Harry and Poppy. Antivenin, blood replenishing potions, potions against infection, and fever reducers had all been administered. But despite all they could do, there was no sign of Severus Snape in that still, quiet, body.

Harry shuddered again, remembering. Remembering everything.

Snape, falling to Nagini. Voldemort, shouting the killing curse in the forest. Dumbledore… King’s Cross. Voldemort, finally succumbing to a simple, if powerful, Expelliarmus. Catching his wand. Hermione, weeping with relief as the dead were collected and Ron leaned into her side. Severus Snape, close to death but still breathing on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack. And most horribly, remembering everything that Tom Riddle had ever known.

Tom Riddle's vast knowledge of magic was still trying to sort itself in Harry's mind - when he'd Disarmed, and thereby killed, the evil wizard, the Expelliarmus had taken all of Tom's knowledge. Harry hadn’t realized at the time what was happening – his relief that it was over was the single most encompassing emotion he’d felt. But something had been happening inside his head, something odd and, for a time, terrifying. For he now had everything that Tom Riddle had been.

All of his memories.

In Disarming Tom, he had taken, not just his wand, but everything that had made him _in any way_ a danger.

For a short time, until activity had once again made thinking impossible, Harry had worried that Tom Riddle was, somehow, possessing him again. Until he remembered, in a moment of exhausted clarity, that Tom no longer had any little bits of soul to possess him with.

King’s Cross. The piece of Tom’s soul that had been lodged in Harry appearing as a flayed child. Sickness briefly threatened Harry, but he swallowed and pulled his mind away from that image.

Harry's suddenly acquired knowledge of Voldemort's memories was like the water spewing through the hole in a dam. It was unstoppable and implacable. The evil wizard had been over seventy when he died; it wasn't just his horrific memories that seventeen-year-old Harry was confused and bewildered by. It was his... happy memories. If they could be called ‘happy’ – they were just as insane.

On the positive side, Tom Riddle's memories of Severus Snape were astounding. Severus had been a brilliant spy. The things he had done in order to remain close to Voldemort and pass information back to the Order, the things he'd done to protect the children of Hogwarts from the Death Eater teachers without giving himself away...the incredible danger he’d been in day and night for years, and his unbelievable bravery… it took Harry’s breath away. And Kingsley wanted to arrest him.

"He's staying here, where I can protect him," Harry said, almost absently, feeling again the rush of kinship and love he'd felt for his erstwhile Potions Professor, after reviewing both Severus' own memories in the Pensieve, and those of the dead Dark Lord. He lost his place in reality again for a moment as he relived his own memories of the frantic effort to recover Severus from the Shrieking Shack after realizing that his portrait hadn't appeared in the Headmaster's office, and the jolt of knowing he was still alive. Felt again the horror of Severus’ condition when he and Poppy had found him, nearly dead. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the moment. To the infirmary. "If what you say is true, all the more reason for him to stay with me. I don't trust anyone else to take care of him."

“He’s got to go to St. Mungo’s, at the very least," Kingsley said. “No matter what you think, Harry, everyone sees him as a Death Eater, and as Dumbledore’s murderer. He has to be guarded and we just can’t keep him at the school! Not until he's cleared by someone we can trust to reveal the entire truth. It'll have to be Veritaserum...”

Harry rose from the bed and glared at Shacklebolt, cutting him off angrily. “ _My_ word should be good enough for you! It should be good enough for anyone in this bloody country, Kingsley. _Anyone_ in the _bloody Wizarding world_. Would… what is it they called me in the Prophet's special edition? ‘The Slayer of Voldemort’? Would I, of all people, protect a Death Eater?”

“You _yourself_ saw him murder Dumbledore!”

Harry nodded and sat back down on the edge of the bed, protecting Severus. They would have to go through him to get to the ex-spy. “He killed Albus, I don’t deny it and neither will he. I reported what I saw, and what I believed to be true at the time, but it wasn’t murder, Kingsley.” Harry was done with last names and titles. He had joined the adult world long ago, and until people started calling him Mister Potter and meaning it respectfully he had decided that he would simply use first names. “I have learned, from memories, Kingsley, from _memories_ mind you, that Albus' death was arranged between them. Both of them knew it would happen. Albus was already dying from a curse – he had only weeks left to live. They were trying to save Draco Malfoy from making a terrible, soul-destroying choice. Kingsley, all of this will come out…”

“…and until it does, for his own protection if for no other reason, he needs to be under guard. He’s ill, injured – St. Mungo’s is the only reasonable option.”

“Not going to happen.”

Kingsley pulled his wand. “Stand aside, Mr. Potter.”

Harry gave a short, bitter laugh, but didn’t even stand, much less pull his wand. “You’ll have to use it, Kingsley. Are you prepared to attack the Slayer of Voldemort, and suffer the consequences? Because I won’t let you take him away.”

“Gentlemen,” Poppy Pomfrey said, a hand out to both. “Please. He cannot be moved right now regardless of anyone’s wishes. Auror Shacklebolt, you must wait, even if the decision to move him is made. He would die if you tried to Floo with him, a portkey isn't much better, and you know you can't Apparate with him from Hogwarts. Even carrying him far enough to be outside the wards might kill him. His condition is critical.”

“How long until he can be moved?” Kingsley asked.

Madam Pomfrey wrung her hands. “I’d say at least two days. At least.”

Slowly Kingsley lowered his wand. “Very well. He goes to St. Mungo’s in forty-eight hours. Mr. Potter,” there was an ‘adult’ sneer in his voice that made Harry shake his head again, “perhaps you would take some of that time to prepare a statement as to why you are convinced of his innocence.”

“I didn’t say he was innocent, Kingsley,” Harry said tiredly. “I only said he wasn’t guilty. Not of the things you think he is. You, of all people, should know that there really isn’t anything black and white in our world, only shades of grey.”

Kingsley shook his head. “Not where Death Eaters are concerned, not anymore. There will be guards stationed outside the door of this room, Madam Pomfrey. Shall I place someone inside, too?”

She snorted with humour. “Kingsley, I’ve known Severus since he was eleven years old. I know what he is capable of, and I never believed he had murdered Albus, despite Mr. Potter’s account. I know him, I tell you. And Harry is here - unless you think _he_ would attack me? I thought not. There is no place safer.”

After a moment Shacklebolt re-sheathed his wand.

“Very well.”

Once he was gone Poppy turned to Harry and opened her mouth to speak, but he motioned her to silence, quickly casting anti-listening and anti-spying wards around the perimeter of the room, and an Imperturbable on the door. Then he nodded. “You were lying, weren’t you? About being able to move him?” he asked.

“Stretching the truth,” she agreed. “I don't trust the Ministry in its current state of upheaval to get him a speedy trial... or a fair one, not with so many Death Eaters still at large and possibly in the Wizengamot, baying for his blood. I also don’t trust the Healers at St. Mungo’s to care for him properly, not with his reputation. And he will die, if he is left unattended."

"You'll let me take him, then? Bless you, Poppy."

"You, Harry, I trust to do right by him. I will give you the necessary potions to maintain him and help him recover. Now then.” She made a show of dusting her hands together, and Harry followed her to the potion cabinet. “Travel by Floo or even by side-along apparition is perfectly possible for him. You can use the Floo in my office to get him outside the wards, and from there... you can take him where you want. He is stable enough. You can continue to give him the potions he needs for the next few days, just as you’ve helped me do here. After that it will be all up to him deciding when to come back to us. You just need to keep him hydrated and fed, and keep up the massage and physiotherapy as I’ve shown you.” She had unlocked the cabinet and was carefully setting different coloured vials into her pockets.

“Have you any prognosis? How long it might be before he wakes?”

“Coma in wizards... it's not well documented or researched. But I warn you, Harry, it may be days, or weeks. It might be months. It might even be never. Even if he does come back, there might have been any amount of brain damage. He might not be the man we knew.” Seemingly content with the number of vials, she walked back to the man’s bedside, Harry trailing behind.

“I owe it to him to try,” he said, his voice fading with exhaustion. “Can I sleep for a few hours? I’m not up to anything at the moment. I'd pop us out at the wrong Floo.”

“I’ll conjure up a second bed for you, and set my own wards around you both so no one can touch you.” She waved her wand and another cot appeared, setting itself down beside the first one. “While you rest I’ll put together a complete basket of potions and unguents, with instructions. He brewed most of them. They’re safe and fresh.” She hesitated. “Where will you take him?”

“Best you don’t know,” he replied. “They’ll ask, and they might not ask nicely. There aren’t a lot of Master Legilimens around, but… you may be forced to take Veritaserum.”

“Just in case you need me…” she hesitated again. “Where you’re going, can a Patronus find you? An owl?”

Harry smiled. “If _you_ need us, Poppy, _your_ Patronus will find us. No owls, though. If I need you, I’ll Floo call. My Patronus is too noticeable; it would alert them to your involvement.”

Poppy nodded. “Pyjamas?”

“Please. I am so exhausted. And filthy. I’d like to shower. Can you keep them out if I take ten minutes in the bathroom?”

She nodded again. “No one will get in this room tonight, nor into my office, not before cock's crow. Not even your friends.”

Harry turned to the pale man on the bed and ran his fingers through the long, stringy hair. “Well, Severus, looks like it’s going to be me and you for a while. But don’t worry. I’ve grown up a lot in the last year. Being on the run does that to a man. I think you’ll be surprised.”

**

It was nearly two in the morning before Harry and Poppy, between them, lifted Severus unto the hearthstone. After a few whispered words of advice and a quick hug, Poppy went back into the main ward to preserve Harry’s privacy.

“Kreacher”, he called softly. With a ‘pop’ the gnarled old house elf appeared beside them and bowed so low that his nose touched his knees. The locket Harry had given him, still hanging around his neck, almost touched the floor

“Master called Kreacher. Kreacher is honoured to see Master again. Master was valiant in vanquishing the Dark Lord.”

Harry couldn't help but grin at the wizened elf. “And you were pretty valiant yourself, Kreacher, rallying all the house elves like that. Well done! I saw you get in a few good licks!”

Kreacher bowed again, smiling. “How can Kreacher serve the saviour of the magical world?” Harry almost laughed at the croaking voice calling him 'saviour'.

“Start by calling me Harry, please. Kreacher, do you know this man?”

Kreacher looked and slowly nodded. “Kreacher thought he was a good man, but Master Harry didn't, not after he killed the Headmaster.”

“He was, and is, a good man, Kreacher. I was wrong about him. The killing was arranged between them. The Headmaster was already dying, and in great pain, so they arranged it in order to save the soul of one of the students from the stain of murder. I will tell you all of it one day.”

“Thank you, Master Harry.”

“Do you know if this man has any house elves, and if he owns properties where they might be?”

Kreacher cocked his head as if listening, his rheumy eyes unfocused. “Yeess….. there are three properties. Two of them have house elves living in them. However, they is Unplottable and under Fidelius charm, Master Harry. Only he is telling you how to reach them.”

“I was afraid of that,” Harry said. “Kreacher, is there any way that you know of to make the Grimmauld Place house safe from Aurors and… well, _anyone_ , finding it? I'm worried, because it was the headquarters of the Order, and then we accidentally led a Death Eater inside the Fidelius charm. We need to take Severus somewhere safe while I sort out our futures, and he needs round-the-clock nursing. I’d like to ask his own house elves to help with that.”

Kreacher beamed. “They is being most happy to help, Master Harry. House elves make best nurses. And Grimmauld Place is easy, Master Harry, nothing easier. You casts a new _Fidelius_ , sir, as you is now the owner, and you is making him the secret keeper.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “But… he’s not likely to be conscious any time soon.”

“That is the beauty of it, sir. He isn't telling anyone.”

“But if he can’t tell me?”

“If you is inside the charm when you casts it, sir, and it is your own house, then you knows the secret and doesn’t need to be told. You writes it on a paper before you casts it, and leaves it for him to find when he wakes. Then he knows it, too, and can tell anyone else you wants!”

Harry felt himself relax. That you could break one _Fidelius_ by casting another hadn't been in Tom's memories because Tom didn't trust people enough to know much about the _Fidelius_ Charm. Or about…

“House elves… Kreacher, house elves aren’t affected by a _Fidelius_ , are they? His elves will still be able to come and go, as you will?”

“Yes, Master Harry. We isn't noticing such things, as we is already bound to keep our masters’ secrets.”

 “Of course. Perfect. Help me with him, then, Kreacher, and as soon as we get home, we must cast _Fidelius_ immediately.”

As soon as they fell from the Floo in the living room, Kreacher snapped his fingers and floated Snape off the hearth and toward the door. "Your room, Master Harry?"

Harry tried not to think about why that made him feel happy. About what the little house elf knew about him that made him suggest it. "The Master Suite. Yes, thanks." He just couldn't bear to think of Severus lying alone. It wasn't possible. Not any longer.

Very soon Snape was snugged into the big bed, and the potions he needed were all spelled into his stomach. He appeared to be asleep, Harry thought, knowing his condition was much more complicated than that. With Kreacher's coaching he wrote a note for when Severus finally woke, and charged Kreacher with keeping it at Severus’ hand until it had been read and understood. Harry and the little elf completed the _Fidelius_ charm a few minutes later. Beyond exhausted again, he collapsed into a chair near the crackling fire. "Kreacher, can you please ask his house elves to come in?"

A moment later there were two 'pop's, and two house elves stood between Harry and the bed. They were dressed in identical little uniforms of forest green edged with silver, and looked to be relatively young, next to Kreacher. Harry wondered, suddenly, how long house elves lived, and how old Kreacher was. Voldemort seemed to have had almost no knowledge about house elves.

"Master Harry, this is Jelly and Happ, house elves of the Prince family and care-givers to Master Severus when he is younger, after his mama passed. He is last of his family now, heir to all that his grandfather died possessed of, and they is happy to serve him again, even though all of the Prince elves is freed many years ago."

Harry smiled at the two little creatures. Free elves! It did Snape's family credit.

"I'm sorry to tell you that Severus is very ill right now. He may not wake for days, or even months. Can you stay, and help him, without breaking any oaths you have to any other place? Can you keep our secrets, his secrets, even against Aurors, even though you are free?"

Both of them nodded, Happ twisting the hem of his uniform tunic. "We is happy to see him again," he said, looking at the pale, pale face on the pillow behind him before looking back at Harry. "We is forbidden to help him when the old Master thinks he is working for the dark one, but we is always knowing he is a good man. We is keeping his secrets, and yours sir, for you is the saviour of the magical world."

Harry sighed, realizing how old that was already getting. "Good, and I thank you very much. Well, Kreacher is in charge of this house, but I am sure he will make you welcome and help you however he can. I wish that we could take Severus to his own house, but I won’t leave him and I can't accompany him, thanks to the _Fidelius_ charms. However, we probably won't stay here any longer than is absolutely necessary. I need to find out about my own inheritance, and if I have another property that we might be able to use. I think I need to ask the Goblins about that… they might not be very happy with me right now, though."

The three little elves exchanged looks. Happ spoke up after a moment. "Sir… the Goblins will be pleased to see sir. Sir does not know what he owns? What he is?"

Harry shook his head. "What do you know?"

All three looked frozen. Kreacher finally shook himself. "It is not our place to say. But see the Goblins, Master Harry, as soon as you may. The bank opens in four hours. Be there then. You is not safe until you do. Not truly safe. And many other lives is much better after you do."

Harry regarded the little elf with open curiosity. "I'm... huh. Very well. Kreacher, can you side-along me to Gringotts when it opens? It would be the safest way to travel. I'm so bone-tired that I'm sure I'd splinch myself if I tried, and four hours’ sleep will barely dent that."

"Better than that, Master Harry. Kreacher will go over first, let them know you are coming, and then Master can Floo right into the Director's office."

"The Director?" Harry let his bafflement show. "Last time I was in Gringotts, Kreacher, I stole from a high security vault and pretty much wrecked the place escaping on what was probably a very, very expensive dragon. Why, short of having me thrown in Azkaban, would the Director want to see me?"

Kreacher, and the other two elves, smiled. "Trust Kreacher, Master Harry. Sleep now for a few hours. Kreacher is waking you in time to wash and dress before leaving. Kreacher is sending up a sandwich and a bowl of soup for you before you is napping." With a 'pop' the elves were all gone.

Harry took another twenty minute shower and then, finally feeling clean, put on some of Sirius’ old pyjama bottoms. He took his time as he ate the food that had appeared on the fireside table, his stomach rebelling yet again. He managed about half before sleep overwhelmed him, and he lay down beside Severus to get a little rest before his next appointment with destiny.

**

At eight o'clock Harry wished the ancient house elf luck as Kreacher apparated to Gringotts. Kreacher wasn't gone for more than two minutes, by Harry's estimate, before he popped back into Number 12. "He is happy that you is coming. When you Floo in, you is bowing to the waist and holding it until he is acknowledging you. It is polite to be giving a Goblin the opportunity to cut off your head, especially if you is recently offending him."

"But, what if he does cut off my head?"

"Then Master is dead with nothing more to worry over. Kreacher is avenging Master Harry, and he is dying because he is forbidden to kill without Master’s permission, and Happ and Jelly is taking Master Severus home and caring for him."

Harry laughed with delight at the pragmatic little creature. "Very well. I hope to see you again soon, Kreacher. If Severus should wake, or anything changes with him, please come and get me."

"Yes, Master Harry. A polite Goblin greeting is 'Death to your enemies, and may your profit grow ever greater'. The Floo address is 'Tightfist's Office', and password is 'death to thieves’." Kreacher turned toward the door.

"Any other tips?"

Kreacher glanced over his shoulder, looking grim. "Don't lie," he croaked. "Goblins is knowing."

Harry grimaced, but took a pinch of Floo powder at once before he could lose his nerve.

*

Tightfist was the most ferocious looking Goblin Harry had ever seen - a glimpse of him, holding a tall, sharp halberd, was all he dared before he bowed deeply. "Greetings, Director Tightfist," he said, holding the bow. "Death to our enemies, and may our profits grow greater, together." He realized that he had changed the polite greeting, but had decided at the spur of the moment to be partners with this being, rather than coming as a supplicant. It seemed a logical side-effect of no longer behaving as a child.

After a long, long moment, there was the grunt of greeting and the ghost of a touch on his neck, and he slowly straightened to find the Goblin looking up at him in frank appraisal.

"So this is the Slayer of Voldemort."

Harry snorted. "Not really. Oh, I killed him, it's true, but 'slayer' makes it sound like I did it all by myself.  I had a lot of help from all kinds of beings. I certainly couldn't have done it alone."

"Hmmm, I think one of those beings was a Goblin. Griphook, by name."

Harry didn't flinch, nor did he speak right away. He was still in two minds about Griphook - the Goblin had helped them into the vault, but then betrayed them. It wasn't clear to Harry how that met with the Goblin code of honour. After a long minute, he nodded. "Do you know what Horcruxes are, Director Tightfist?"

The flinch told Harry that Tightfist did, indeed, know. "Voldemort had a Horcrux?"

"Voldemort had seven Horcruxes," Harry said, "and before I could kill him dead they all had to be destroyed."

Tightfist had come out of his chair, his fierce face dark with anger. "Seven! The evil is unbelievable. But... what is this to do with the traitor, Griphook?"

Harry held still, and spoke quietly but firmly. "Traitor? Maybe. Do Goblins hold with the notion of 'life debts'? We rescued Griphook from the cellar of Malfoy Manor. He was imprisoned and had been tortured. They would have killed him. He lied to them on our behalf, to save my best friend’s life – it was very brave of him. After we rescued him, we asked for his help to get into one of the vaults, in order to retrieve a Horcrux so that we could destroy it. He agreed to help us, but his price was that we would hand over the sword of Gryffindor, which had come into our possession. He knew we weren't going to steal anything else, just take the Horcrux."

"Ah. How came you to be caught then?" Tightfist settled back into his chair, and Harry finally dared to sit down across the desk from him.

Harry grinned at the naiveté of his younger self – had it only been a week? "We weren't careful enough when we made our contract with him. He was only to get us into the Lestrange vault – we didn’t stipulate out of the vault and the bank. After we were inside he took the sword, called for Goblin help and turned against us as thieves."

Tightfist hooded his eyes with his long lashes for a moment. "Did he know of the great evil you were fighting? Of the Horcrux?"

"Of Voldemort, yes. The Horcrux? No, I don’t believe he knew the true nature of the object we were seeking. Or if he did, he didn't let on."

There was a long silence. Then the Goblin sighed. "He could not have known. You would have received more help than that if you had confided in him. Or if you had come to me. Still, I cannot find him wholly without honour. Thank you for explaining; his widow will be relieved in more ways than one. Now, how can I help you today?"

Harry held up a finger. “First, I would like to ask you about my liability regarding repairs to the bank, and replacing the dragon.”

Tightfist bared his teeth in a jagged smile. “We were going to send you to Azkaban and seize your vaults – but then you killed Voldemort. So, we decided to charge you half the costs of repair and demand that you replace the dragon. However, what you just told me has changed my mind about that. The destruction of a Horcrux to end the Dark Lord outweighs the destruction of my lobby and the loss of one old dragon. Consider your debt paid in full, with some of the balance now on the Goblins’ side. How can Gringotts serve the Slayer of Voldemort?”

Harry smiled, reassured. The destruction of the lobby and the 'theft' of the dragon had been weighing on his mind. "I would like to enquire about my inheritance. I didn't realize that there was anything besides the vault that I had my money for school from...”

"Stop." The Goblin's eyes were suddenly glittering. "If you want to enquire, Mister Potter, then please, _please_ enquire. Please _enquire fully, and thoroughly, and carefully_."

Harry sat back at the Goblin's bizarre statement. "I take it that I am not to be told anything that I don't ask about? Is that correct?"

Tightfist nodded, looking particularly eager. “So ordered, but not publicised, by Ministry law this morning. There are things that some in high places do not want you to discover. Please, be careful how you ask, so that I can give you a complete answer,” he looked frantic, almost.

Harry thought for a moment, then decided to tackle this like one of the lawyers he’d overheard on Aunt Petunia’s favourite crime show. “Okay. I, Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Potter Evans...” Tightfist grinned and nodded, “an adult under Wizarding law, request that the Director of Gringotts disclose to me any and all chattels and holdings, whether material, financial or magical, tangible and intangible, that have come to me by inheritance or gift or by any other means howsoever, regardless of any trace, ward or other magical impediment placed on those chattels and holdings... and to provide me with statements of the value of all holdings including any transactions that have been made in them during my lifetime whether by my own family or by any other party... How am I doing?”

Tightfist looked thoughtful. “I think... yes, that covers it. Lord Potter,” he continued, and Harry startled at the name, “I am pleased to comply with your request. It will take some time. Can I offer you some refreshment while you wait?”

Harry blinked. “Lord Potter?”

“Amongst other things, yes.”

Harry blinked again. _Among other things?_ “Uh... I have an invalid at home who needs care. Can I go, and return in an hour or so?”

“Of course. Good financial review and the execution of estates, plus full disclosure of other holdings… it will take time. And you are going to need a lot of time, Lord Potter. A lot of time. All day. Perhaps all week.” The Goblin rubbed his long fingers together, grinning widely.

Harry felt as if the world were shifting around him. “Am I rich, then?”

“Very. Yes.” Tightfist cackled. "You have very recently become what the mundane bankers would call 'mega-rich'. I believe, in fact, that you might be the single richest person in Britain. Possibly excluding Her Britannic Majesty Elizabeth Regina."

“Oh. My. ” He thought about that for a moment, then shrugged it away as impossible to comprehend without more time. Still, he had one important priority. “Director Tightfist, in all of that wealth, have I got any properties that are protected from discovery by anyone, especially the Ministry, that I might relocate to with... with the invalid I am caring for? And would you be able to keep our location a secret?”

“You do indeed, Lord Potter, and yes, I can. I will compile a list, and we will make that our first order of business when you return... after accepting the various titles of course. Once you have accepted your titles, or at least the principal ones, no one can interfere with you, or manipulate you, ever again.”

Harry felt a slow smile begin. “That would be welcome indeed, Director. Very welcome.”

"I can imagine it would be. Once that is taken care of, you can relocate, and we can conduct our business from whichever home you choose. Less risky than being seen in the bank. I’m sorry to say that you’re a fugitive at the moment, Lord Potter."

Harry laughed. “Not really surprising. My life is never normal.”

A sudden pop sounded and Kreacher was there, twisting his hands together. “Kreacher is sorry to interrupt, Master Harry, but he is not easy, he is hot and restless...”

“Excuse me, Director. When I come back, I use the same address and password?”

“ _You_ no longer need a password, Lord Potter. _You_ are free to come and go as you please. See you in about an hour?”


	2. In which more truth is learned

chapter 2

**

Severus was hot and seemed worried, for despite being deeply unconscious, the furrow between his eyes was more pronounced than normal, and there were lines of tension around his eyes and mouth. Harry coaxed an anti-pyretic and a calming draft into him, and a half litre of rehydration fluid, as Poppy had taught him. Then he ran his fingers through the long, dirty hair. “We’ll get the elves to wash this for you, shall we? There's still some blood in there, I think. It must feel nasty.” He told Severus about his visit to the bank, and what had happened, and that he was going back again later. “But if you get worried, you just act up like you did before, and Kreacher will come and get me immediately. No problem at all, Severus. Relax, my friend, you are safe and we will care for you. You’re safe. All is well. The evil dark lord is dead, and you are safe.”

Severus calmed almost immediately once Harry began to stroke his hair. A few minutes later Harry was able to wolf down a sandwich and watch as the elves carefully washed Severus’ hair, dried it with a spell, and then combed it to silky softness on the pillow. Harry stroked it again for a few minutes, and then whispered, "I'm off to Gringotts now, Severus. I will be back in a few hours. Don't worry about me, I will be safe, I'll be in the Director's office and he isn't mad about the dragon at all. Oh, hey, I didn't tell you about the dragon yet! You are going to like that story, as Gryffindor as it is... it's a bit Slytherin, too."

*

‘Lord’ was, apparently, a form of address that came down from his father’s family, primogeniture, from the time of King John and Henry III. It was because Harry’s Potter ancestor at the time, actually a Peverell, had been made a Duke for some forgotten service to the crown. Strictly speaking he wasn’t entitled to the mundane honour any longer, but wizard-kind held on to such honours tenaciously. As little as he cared about such things, Harry was pleased with the honorific – it would help him do all of the things he wanted to do but with much less hassle, given how class conscious the Wizarding world tended to be.

The Potters also held a seat on the Wizengamot, that came to Harry.

However, Harry was shocked to realize that he had more than one fantastic inheritance to his name. He was not only Lord Potter, but thanks to Sirius he was also heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black, which brought him another seat on the Wizengamot, almost thirteen million galleons and several properties scattered around the world, plus three vaults full of treasures and antiques, both magical and non-magical. Something else that Albus had failed to mention to him.

He was also, to his great amusement, going to become an honorary Malfoy and Head of the Ancient House of Malfoy, as there was a law that any wizard who followed a Dark Lord would forfeit his inheritance if that Dark Lord was conquered. The head-of-house title and honours at the end of the Dark Lord’s reign fell to the conqueror, at the conqueror’s discretion. Harry wished he could be there to see Draco's face... in fact, he would make it a point to be there. He knew that Draco was a victim of the war, as Harry was, but it would teach the arrogant brat a decent work ethic to lose his fortune and have to support himself.

"Tightfist... If followers of Voldemort aren't able to keep their titles and property now, how is Severus Snape still heir to the Prince family?"

“How do you know that he is?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Well, the Prince house elves seem perfectly happy to be with him, so I assumed…”

“So. He _is_ with you. Good.” Tightfist showed his teeth. "Magic is smarter than the Wizengamot, Harry." They had given up on titles hours before. "Magic knew that Snape was working for the Light. When it locked down the vaults of all the other Death Eaters at Voldemort's demise both the Snape and Prince vaults remained accessible. It probably also alerted the house elves of those conquered that they would, quite possibly, soon be changing hands. I doubt very many of the house elves of the conquered are very helpful these days. No doubt these issues will be raised by the remaining free Death Eaters during the next Wizengamot meeting.”

“Wish I could be there.”

“Oh, you will be. In fact, you must be, if you want to see justice done. I’ll explain as we go along here.”

“I have to go? Won’t they try to arrest me?”

The Director just blinked at him. “Yes. Of course they will, but what does that matter? As for Master Snape… and his inheritance… the fact that he still has it will be a point of exoneration for Potions Master Snape, if they ever dare to try him." He stared at Harry for a moment. “In fact, I believe that when his father died he became entitled to be called Prince as well, and as Prince is an Ancient and Noble House…”

“No. He’s got a seat on the Wizengamot, too?” Harry began to chuckle. "He'll be thrilled."

“Yes. And his grandfather was a very wealthy landowner, you know. He took Severus back after his mother and father died. The mother was a mouse and the muggle father was a vicious and violent tyrant. Grandfather hated him. However. Didn’t believe that the sins of the parent should be visited on the child. Wise old man. Liked him.”

“Really? So, what’s Severus’ correct name, then?”

Tightfist considered. “Well, the Prince name comes, of course, from a very ancient crossblood match between a witch and a mundane royal, purportedly a Prince of Wales. Time of the succession wars between King Stephen and Queen Matilde - Maude, you might have called her. Might even have been Llewellyn himself. Not much Muggle blood left there now, certainly, but the name persists. Today, I believe the correct appellation is Severus, Lord Prince. Prince would take precedence over Snape, which is a mundane name.” The goblin blinked. "How is he?"

"Comatose. But I'm hopeful."

"Hmmm. There are some very good healers on my staff. If you like I can send someone to look him over. Who has he seen?"

"Poppy Pomfrey."

"Well. Well. She is good, but let me send someone. It is my duty and my honour to assist him. I think the world has treated him very badly."

By now well beyond exhaustion, Harry couldn't stop the prick of tears at the goblin's understanding. He turned away for a moment to compose himself, then turned back and cleared his throat. "Thank you. Shall we carry on, then?"

"Yes, indeed. Politics. So. Every household that had status as Ancient, Noble, or both means you have one seat on the Wizengamot, and each seat carries one vote. For the last few years, Albus Dumbledore has been using your vote, probably illegally, to forward his agenda when he needed to. You have, or will soon have, several votes of your own: the Potter, Black and Malfoy seats. Actually, I think you’re entitled to the ancient Peverell seat as well. It hasn't been exercised since the time of... let me think. Shakespear was a friend of Christopher Peverell, the last of the Peverells.

"”Four votes! I'd better only vote when I feel very strongly about something."

"Yes. Ahem. I'm afraid there's more. It isn't only Malfoy who stands to lose his title through conquest, Harry. There are others."

Harry blinked stupidly. "Huh?"

"Any of the Dark Lord's followers who didn't repent before the time of his death have lost out to you, as conqueror. To be blunt, Harry, everything they had is now, potentially, yours. Just as with Malfoy. Everything. Titles. Vaults. Homes. Elves. Livestock. Everything."

Harry let his breath out in a whoosh. "You're not joking, either. My good god. Are we talking about a lot of... a lot of households?"

"Yes. There are fifteen Ancient, or Noble, or Ancient and Noble Houses with seats on the Wizengamot who followed Voldemort, besides Malfoy. They were all either unsuspected, or, like Malfoy, claimed to have been _Imperioused_. You can take their titles yourself, or you can, as conqueror, give them _in toto_ and _in perpetuity_ , to anyone you please. Most of them bring some wealth with them.”

“I want a normal life!”

“Yes. So, I would suggest you give them in gift, as you will be enough of a target." He saw Harry's pallor, stood up and poured him a brandy. Harry took a gulp, and the fiery liquid brought on a violent coughing fit. When he had finished wiping the streaming tears, he looked at Tightfist.

“Can’t I just leave them alone? I don't need all that. I don't _want_ all that!”

“If you don't claim them, you leave Death Eaters in the Wizengamot, even if they can no longer access their vaults. You reward them for surviving and thriving. You encourage them to continue the disgusting prejudices they are imposing on our various nations. Would you like knowing that Muggleborns will continue to be second class citizens?”

“No! Of course not.” Harry took another sip and nearly choked. "It's just too much for any one person. Far too much."

"I agree, even a Goblin would be embarrassed. However, don't overlook the potential for good you can do. I. May I offer my opinion?"

Harry nodded, taking another sip of the brandy. This time he vaguely enjoyed it, and smiled. “I could use some advice, that’s obvious.”

"Very well. Look around you, and gift the titles to deserving families or individuals who will work to improve the lot of Britain's magicals. Take some of the money as a condition of the title passing, to create some stability. There are hundreds of magical orphans in Britain now, not just human ones either, thanks to Tom Riddle. There are many, many homeless. You, Harry Potter, can help with that. You can fix it. But not alone. So give the seats, and the votes that go with them, to people you know will help. People with the drive and energy to see things through."

"Like you."

"Goblins are not allowed to sit in the Wizengamot, Harry."

"That needs to change. We need voices from every kind of magical being." Harry sat back. "I need some legal help, Tightfist. I'm only seventeen years old. I don't have any education in politics or finance or law. Can you help?"

Tightfist nodded. "I can. I'll recommend some financial assistance, and then we'll decide on legal counsel. The seizure of assets and the passing-on of property, vaults, and Wizengamot seats can only wait for up to 30 days from the decease of Tom Riddle, or the magic will assume that the conqueror, you, is satisfied for the conquered to remain unpunished. I suggest we plan very carefully and execute it all on the same day. There is a meeting of the Wizengamot a week Monday. That gives us 10 days. First, though, we should move Lord Prince and yourself to somewhere no one would think to look for you, and continue our work from there. Shall we go over the list of properties? Between the Potters and the Blacks I think there are a couple you’ll be tempted by..."

“Are there a lot of properties associated with the other titles?”

“Indeed there are. Seventy-three in all.”

"Seventy-three..?" Harry felt his mind stalling for perhaps the hundredth time since he had first met Tightfist. "Seventy-three properties...? Of mine."

"That is correct. From the Wizengamot members only, of course. You must also consider all of the properties that come to you by Right of Conquest from Death Eaters and other Voldemort supporters who _didn't_ have Ancient or Noble families. Your 'ordinary' witches and wizards. Those number over five hundred. You may choose to use them, or some of them, to re-home the people made homeless by Voldemort. But, as you will."

"Good god." Harry scratched his head. "And the vaults..?"

"Exactly," Tightfist nodded, just as if Harry had said something sensible. "There's almost 700 million galleons spread amongst those. You may consider gifting them as well, up to you, but you could really help the orphaned and homeless... But first, let's talk about you and Lord Prince? Properties that the Minister can't find?"

“Certainly."

**

The next morning, after falling into bed late in the afternoon and remaining unconscious for over 15 hours, Harry settled the still, pale, limp form of Severus Snape onto a massive daybed, next to the swimming pool on the vast patio of Black Island's only house. Black House. It wasn't black, though, but a soft white with brightly coloured shutters at the windows.

Harry switched Severus’ pyjamas for cotton boxers and a thin cotton shirt, and then transfigured a nearby table into a shade canopy with gauzy curtains which he set over the daybed, sheltering Severus from the sun. Then, considering that they had come from 20 degrees to 30 in only a few seconds, he set a cooling charm on the shelter. Satisfied, he looked around again.

Black ‘House’ was a misnomer. Mansion, was more like it. It was a 20 bedroom monster, and absolutely gorgeous, open to catch every breeze. It was also just below the tropic of Cancer, had six dedicated house elves, and was completely Unplottable.

"Severus, I don't know if you've ever been in the tropics before," Harry said. The goblin healer, Longfingers, ran a hand over the unconscious man, instantly checking his vitals. He seemed calm, so Harry kept talking. "It's beautiful here. There is a volcano, thankfully extinct, behind us, and its slopes are covered with thick, gorgeous jungle. I bet there are thousands of potion ingredients in there, just waiting to be plucked, or cut, or harvested. Down here there is an azure lagoon with fish, and a white sand beach. It's fantastic. You are going to love it. We'll have to keep a cooling charm on you until you wake up - it's over 30 degrees here." He chatted for a few minutes, then left Severus with Longfingers and went in to explore the house.

Nine of the house elves that now looked to him were in residence, cleaning and preparing. Harry had invited all of the 15 people on whom he planned to gift the conquered Wizengamot seats, and their associated properties, to the island. It was imperative that he knew where they stood before the Wizengamot met. They didn't know where they were going, of course, and each would be transported by house elf at a pre-arranged time.

Harry was now being actively hunted by the Ministry, as a criminal this time, for harbouring a known Death Eater. He laughed every time he thought about it. However, Harry had bigger things to busy himself with, and knew that the Ministry would be muzzled forever in a few days, at least where he and Severus were concerned.

The absorption of Voldemort's life was harder to deal with than the Ministry’s flip-flop. He had a lot of very dangerous magic now at his beck and call, although that didn't really bother him because he knew he wouldn't use it for the wrong reasons. But the memories were stomach-turning. He didn't have nightmares about their content, which surprised him at first, until he realized that he _knew_ he wasn’t responsible for what he remembered. What he had were... well they were just someone else’s memories.

But he didn't want them surfacing at odd moments, either. To that end he used his now extensive (thanks to Voldemort) knowledge of Occlumency to build a series of memory 'boxes', into which he organized and stored away the history of Tom Riddle. It made him hate the man more, viewing it all in snippets and bits as he stowed it away, but he felt much more at home in his own head again, after it was done.

 The memories’ contents made him want to work all the harder toward fixing a few things back in Wizarding Britain, before turning in his angel wings and hanging out in the surf. Preferably with Severus.

At the other extreme from trying to distance himself from Tom’s memories, the longer he reviewed the memories which Severus had given him the more invested he became in the dour potions master. He sat with him for hours every day, talking to him, massaging him and helping with his physiotherapy, combing his hair, reading to him, or just holding his hand. He was convinced that Severus knew he was there, but that he just needed time to recover before he could face the world again.

Harry knew, in his heart, that he had fallen in love with the older man. He knew that anyone who had seen what he had seen would love him.

"Master Harry, Mr. Artie Weasel is here with his son, Master's friend," Kreacher announced. He had nominated himself Harry's very senior personal assistant with the influx of house elves. "He is waiting in the library, as you requested."

Harry dropped Severus’ hand, and stroked his cheek. "I'll be back in a bit, Severus. Don't be worried. You're safe. All is well," he said as he always did, before leaving Severus' side. As he did, one of the house elves popped in to take his place, and Harry smiled at her. “Any change, Jelly…”

“I’s fetching you at once, Master Harry.”

Arthur Weasley rose from his seat as Harry entered, and Ron almost launched himself across the room, squeezing Harry tight for a moment. "Harry, blimey! Where in hell have you been? You know, there are warrants out for you now, as well as for that greasy git? Why are you protecting him? What in hell are you thinking?"

Harry pushed Ron away. "Hello to you too, Ron. Hello, Arthur," he continued, holding out his hand. Arthur shook it firmly.

"Harry. Good to see you. You are well? I almost couldn’t get out of the house, Molly was so worried about you. Well, we both were."

"I'm great. Completely recovered."

"And Severus? Hermione tells us you believe him innocent?"

Harry nodded. "I know it. Pensieve memories. I'll even testify under Veritaserum, no problem. Meanwhile, he's still in very rough shape, I'm sorry to say. There's no way to tell if, or when, he'll regain consciousness."

Arthur looked taken aback. "He still hasn't awakened?"

"No. His healers think it's probably just the accumulated stress of years and years of spying and the associated mental and emotional damage. And Nagini's bite was pretty toxic, the trauma extensive. There may be brain injury. I'm hopeful though."

"Hopeful! Harry, you're talking about Snape! The most..."

"Ron, please just shut up. And while you're at it, open your ears and pay attention to what others are saying," Harry said. "Sorry, Arthur, but Ron needs to understand that things are different now. That we've all changed."

"Oh no, I agree. Have at him," Arthur replied, chuckling. Ron stared from one to the other, but before he could open his mouth, his father said: "Ronald Weasley, Severus Snape is a hero and probably the bravest person you will ever know, and it's time for you to grow up!"

Ron turned bright red, but closed his mouth and looked away, furious.

"Thanks, Arthur. Now, the reason I asked you to visit, besides hoping for a renewed friendship with Ron, which may be impossible, is this: Have you ever heard of the Right of Conquest?"

He led the two, Ron trailing sullenly behind, out to the patio about fifty feet from where Snape snoozed endlessly in the filtered and cooled sunlight. Two house elves popped out to them as soon as they sat down, and Harry asked for a margarita. Following his lead, Arthur did too, and Ron asked for a butterbeer. “And bring some snacks, please, Ebi,” Harry finished.

“Yes Master Harry.” Harry glanced up and saw the resentment smouldering in Ron’s eyes, and sighed. He simply would not cater to Ron’s childish jealous streak any longer.

“Arthur, because I defeated Tom, I am able to claim all of the belongings and wealth and titles of all of those who supported him when he died. It’s called the Right of Conquest. It means...”

Ron leapt up, face red. “But that’s not fair! We helped! We helped a lot! You could never have done it alone.”

Harry stared at Ron as Arthur stood up and glared at his son. “Ronald Weasley, sit down and be quiet. I am ashamed of you! How dare you show such crass, petty envy... to not even let Harry finish what he was going to say? Sit down!”

“I'm sorry, Arthur," Harry said, waving a hand, "but I’m going to Stick him there and Silence him. I need to finish what I started to say to you without any further interruptions.”

Ron sat abruptly, mouth moving furiously but silently.

“Is that necessary, Harry?”

“I think you’ll agree that it is," Harry sighed. "You saw his jealousy, his misplaced outrage. I've seen it before but I'd hoped he would have outgrown it by now. Fourth year, fifth year, sixth year – and worst of all, during the Horcrux hunt. I don’t want to hear either his fury or his false apologies, which I know are coming next.”

Arthur looked uncomfortable, but nodded. "Please, go on."

“I have the right to claim 15 Wizengamot seats, Arthur, of either Ancient or Ancient and Noble houses. However, I didn't defeat Tom by myself, and I couldn't have done so. Moreover, if you and Molly hadn't helped me, made me feel like... like a real person, like someone with value, I might have given up altogether. Do you know, the jumper and fudge you sent me for Christmas first year, were the first real Christmas presents I ever received? That year my so-called family sent me a single tissue and a small Muggle coin.”

“Harry…”

“I briefly considered passing a seat on to Ron, but he has proved several times that he has only been my friend because he liked associating with 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. He's been jealous of me since we met, and as I just said he’s turned against me several times when I needed his help, despite the fact that he had the only thing I ever really wanted. A family that loved him."

Arthur nodded.  "I understand. I know. Please don't consider it, Harry."

"No, please let me finish. I want you to understand both why I'm not giving him anything, and why I hope you won't either."

"I? What have I to give him?"

"Please, Arthur."

Harry waited until Arthur sat back before continuing. "Ron needs to really understand that you have to earn what you get. I earned what I got by being beaten, starved, and locked in the dark from the age of one. From sometimes spending a week in the dark without food, using an overflowing bucket as a toilet. From being called 'Freak' for so long that I actually didn't know I had a name until I started school. From being bullied and treated like trash. By being manipulated and abused by Albus. By fighting for a cause I never really understood, simply because I was told it was my responsibility to see it through so that other people didn't suffer. While Ron... Ron was loved, he probably slept in a bed every night, he probably never went hungry, for more than an hour, certainly not for days at a time – well, before he briefly joined us on the hunt. He was probably never beaten for no reason... or for any reason. I suspect that Ron never earned anything in his life." Harry looked across at Severus, then back at Arthur, whose face was truly horrified.

"Harry, I knew it was bad, but... why on Earth did Dumbledore leave you there?"

"He had his own agenda," Harry replied, "and it rarely included my wellbeing. Only that I stayed alive to fulfil what he saw as my destiny. But he's dead now, and he's repentant. I know, because I met him the other night, when Voldemort killed me."

"Harry?" Arthut had gone from shocked to completely horrified.

"When I went into the forest after Tom's ultimatum he did throw the killing curse, and I didn't try to defend myself. I was attempting to do what my mother had done, to protect all of you by dying to save you. But because of the bit of his soul still in my scar, and because he so arrogantly stole my blood to resurrect himself, he didn't, entirely, succeed in killing me. But I saw Dumbledore, on the other side of the Veil. We spoke. He recognized the hell that he had made my life. We were reconciled."

Arthur was simply staring, mouth open. After a long  minute, he cleared his throat. "You poor man. You brave, brave man. That must have been... I can't imagine. I always thought I would die for my children, my family... but you actually walked to your death for... for _us_..."

"It was hard, Arthur. It was hard. Anyway. What I started to say. It is time to revamp the Wizengamot, and I don't think Ron is a suitable candidate. We need people in there that will work to help others, but Ron has repeatedly proven that he would make decisions to benefit himself. You, however, would not. I would have asked Molly, to free you up for the kind of work that the Ministry is going to need you to do, but this particular seat is a males-only one. I guess when you die it will go to Bill…"

"Harry? What are you saying?"

Harry cleared his throat, drawing a parchment from his tunic. "Arthur, it gives me great pleasure to present you with the titles, lands, estate, and vault contents of a convicted Death Eater who I conquered, and whose titles, lands, estate and vault contents thereby devolve to me to give as I see fit. The only proviso is that you attend the next meeting of the Wizengamot. Come armed and prepared to defend people, as the former holder of the seat will probably be there since he doesn't know that I'm taking action against him. It’s the old Parkinson family house."

Arthur simply gaped for a long moment, before speaking in a bewildered tone. "But Harry, why?"

"It was the best one. I wanted you to have the best, Arthur. It comes with three houses, in Wessex, France, and Italy. Six house elves, two in Wessex, one in France and three in Italy, all free but very happy to pledge their loyalty to you for a galleon a month, uniforms, and board. They really don't want time off. Wealth; about two hundred million, half in galleons and half in treasure. You’ll have to let an auror into the vault, before you remove anything, as there are probably cursed and dark objects inside."

"Harry, no! You can't do this, you could use this..."

"Arthur, by giving it to you I _am_ using it. I am now Lord Potter and head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, and will soon be head of the House of Malfoy. You have no idea how rich my father was, and the Blacks were not hard up by any stretch of the imagination, and the Malfoys are almost as rich as the Potters. I have so much money I couldn't spend it if I wanted to! I will ask you for a donation, a maximum of five per cent of the total after you settle any debts, toward some funds I'm creating. One is to set-up, provision and staff some magical orphanages, one is to provide scholarships for any Wizarding child that needs one, one is to set up a Wizarding day-school that the government will, hopefully, later fund from taxation. Another is to promote a bill making Muggle education for Wizarding children to the age of eleven as, hopefully, one day, mandatory, and the other is to re-home people who lost everything under Tom. Okay?"

"I,  I can't..."

"Arthur. Take it. No one deserves it more. Only please, consider withholding funds from Ron, because I think he needs to learn what it means to earn what you get. Deal?"

Arthur looked at his suddenly furious again offspring, and nodded. "Ron, not a penny, until you have shown that you have done something to earn it. Perhaps when you can prove you respect other people no matter how fortunate or unfortunate they may be. Harry," he went on, turning back to the younger man. "This is a dream come true for me. To be able to take Molly out of ... well, let's face it, the Burrow started life as a pig sty. And to get a seat on the Wizengamot to boot... Why, your idea about promoting Muggle education for all children is brilliant. I’d like to work with that. I'll be there. What day?"

"It's Monday. And I'd like you to stay here until then, because things might leak and that would endanger you. Can I contact Molly and have her, Ginny and George meet you here? The rest of your family should be safe. Oh, and I've got something for George as well. Don't worry, it's not a seat on the Wizengamot, but it is a job that needs doing and might help him cope with Fred’s loss. Arthur, I'm so sorry about Fred. Ron can bunk with George, and Ginny will love the attic garret. Would that be alright?"

Harry had similar conversations with 14 other people. Andromeda Tonks got the estate of her insane sister's husband, LeStrange. The estates of the other 13 were divided among witches (as Harry thought there were probably enough men sitting in the Wizengamot already) and non-human magicals, the only exception being Aberforth Dumbledore, who Harry asked just for the fun of having the goat-loving bar-owner in the Wizengamot. The others were Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood (whose grandmother had been a Muggle, making her, technically, a half-blood; and whose unique worldview would help keep the Wizengamot interesting and fair), Tightfist and Longfinger from the goblins, Filius Flitwick (a half-Goblin), Minerva McGonagall, Firenze and Bolt for the centaurs, Hagrid for the Giants, a werewolf named Anna Swit and her vampire partner Jane who Arthur knew were friends of the late Remus Lupin, and to round out their numbers Fleur Delacour-Weasley for the veela.

He also spoke with several people not about seats in government, but about accepting a property and some serious money to be leaders in the re-homing, pre-schooling and orphanage incentives. George, desperate for anything to help him cope with the loss of his twin, leapt at the chance to be the key player in the re-homing work.

"And I'm going to get Ron to run the business in Diagon Alley," he told Harry. "I can’t bear to be there right now, and my helper Amy is a great inventor, she comes up with cool product ideas all the time. Besides, Ron’s looking for a way to earn money, and the responsibility might help him grow up."

"Great idea."

**


	3. Harry carries the battle a bit further

**

The house was full, but at Harry’s request most people kept away from the daybed where Harry was sitting with Severus, the sun low in the sky, on Sunday evening. Severus hadn't had a 'worried' episode since they'd come to Black Island, and Harry felt content sitting with him, running his fingers through his hair and telling him about his day. A footfall nearby alerted him, and he looked up to see Ron and Arthur standing near.

"Sorry to intrude, Harry," Arthur said. "We were just wandering, and didn't realize you were talking to him."

"You're not intruding," Harry replied. "I talk to him all the time. I keep hoping one day he'll resurface, talk back... but meanwhile, I like to keep him informed. The jury is still out on whether he hears and understands, but all the healers believe that he knows someone is here."

Arthur nodded and sat down. "A question, if I might?"

"Of course. About tomorrow?"

"No. About Severus. You seem so sure about him."

Harry shot Ron a look. "Ron didn't tell you, did he?" The young redhead closed his mouth firmly and looked away. "Well, I told you I'd seen memories, right? After Nagini attacked Severus and we all thought he would die, he gave me some of his memories. I collected them in a vial that Hermione had. I watched them in Dumbledore's pensieve."

"Ah." Arthur nodded. "And you're sure they were true memories?"

"Yes. I've seen a false memory, one of Slughorn's. So I know the difference. Everything Severus showed me was true. It's what gave me the courage to act that night. And it’s why I have to care for him now. There were reasons for everything. Even Dumbledore's death. Arthur, it was planned between them, as Albus was dying already, and Draco had been ordered, by Voldemort, to murder him. It would have destroyed Draco... and in the end, the fact that Draco was still at school saved my life." Harry swallowed.

"I don't understand, I'm afraid."

"I'll explain it all one day. But the two of them, Severus and Albus, knew that it was far saner and in the end safer, for Severus to wield the wand that killed the Headmaster. Plus, Riddle still saw Severus as a Death Eater, which allowed Severus to become Headmaster and help protect the students this last year. It would have been a massacre if Severus hadn't intimidated the hell out of the other 'teachers' that Tom appointed."

"The Carrows."

"Yes." Harry looked back down at Severus and shook his head. "There's more, of course... you know that I had a connection to Tom Riddle, through my scar? Arthur, I saw Tom's mind when I disarmed him. It's like... like the magic took everything that made him a danger and gave it to me. Of course, I'm not like him, so it doesn't matter if I can do the things he did, because I just wouldn't. But between his memories of how brilliant Severus is, and Severus' own memories of the other side of those meetings. It’s hard to explain. I couldn’t respect him more.”

Arthur shifted his feet, but didn’t interrupt. Harry went on, slowly. “Did you know that he and my mother were best friends, in their youth? But for a few mistaken moments when he was young, he might have married her. And to have seen his memories – you can't be that intimate with someone, Arthur, can't see those kind of things, without... without learning to love them. I consider him family now, Arthur. And I've never had family before, besides you and Molly and, for a short time, Remus and Sirius."

"But you also got Voldemort's memories?" Arthur looked completely horrified. "How... that must be the stuff of nightmares!"

"Not really. Weird, because I’ve had terrible nightmares for years and years, but I think it’s because I know the memories aren’t mine, and I know he's gone. They're nasty, that's certain, but I've boxed them all up. It was easy, actually – Tom was very good at it, so now I am, too. It's a technique that Severus tried to teach me, actually, when I was trying to learn Occlumency." He smiled down at the unconscious man. "He was right; it's a handy skill to have. But do you see now, why I am absolutely sure about him? I both trust and love him."

Arthur reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I do understand, Harry. And I'm glad you have found someone to care for, who you obviously believe cares about you, too."

"He does, Arthur. He really does. I've seen it in his memories of me. All those years, it tore him apart that he had to play the role he did, treat us, _treat me,_ as he did. When he comes back to us, to me, I want him to be able to be the real Severus, free of constraint."

"Then I will pray that he comes back to you. I'll leave you to your chat, and get some dinner for myself and my recalcitrant offspring. Come on, Ron. You'll have a fit if you keep biting your tongue like that. And, if I hear you've told anyone what Harry just told you, you will regret it!"

"Don't worry, Arthur," Harry laughed. "I have a handy spell called 'Privileged Information', and no one can ever repeat what I just told you unless they have Severus' and my best interests at heart."

"Handy. I'd like to learn that one."

“It goes like this.” He waved his wand, describing an area of the patio that included all four of them. “ _Privilegiata_.”

**

The Auror Corps was out in force the next morning when Harry Floo'd into the Ministry. He walked in undisguised, in brand-new finery from head to toe, looking completely unworried and in control.

Kingsley moved to intercept him before he was halfway across the atrium, but Harry didn't falter. "Kingsley! How are you? Here to escort me down to the Wizengamot session?"

"Potter. You are under arrest. Where is the fugitive Severus Snape?"

"Lord Potter-Black, actually. And Severus is now Lord Prince. He's still in my care, at one of my houses, with round-the-clock medical assistance. He still hasn't woken."

Kingsley frowned. "Still hasn't... Wait. Lord Prince?"

"You got it, Kingsley. Do you understand what that means in terms of Severus’ supposed Death Eater status? Yes? No? Maybe? Either way, I suggest that you and all of your finest come below to make several arrests during today’s meeting of the Wizengamot."

Kingsley put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you talking about the... about Death Eaters' wealth or titles being forfeit? That's a myth, Potter. Or Malfoy would hardly be..."

"Not a myth, Kingsley. Simply a bit of magic that none of you has researched properly.” He lifted Kingsley’s hand off of his shoulder and dropped it, and Kingsley let it fall. “You are probably not aware that Malfoy, among others, has not been able to access his vault since I killed Tom Riddle. You should have talked to the Goblins.”

Kingsley opened and closed his mouth. “Are you saying the old ‘right of conquest’ nonsense… it’s not really real, is it?”

Harry grinned. “Like everything else, it takes the right person at the right time, with the right words. I think you'll enjoy this... there are quite a few of them, fifteen plus Malfoy. And there's no need for trials or Veritaserum or penseives; the magic will not touch them if they aren't guilty."

Kingsley's ears perked up, and he watched as Potter walked away toward the elevator. Then he started. "Aurors. We will be attending the Wizengamot session!''

Harry enjoyed the startled looks as he entered the ancient chamber. He glanced up at Madam Bones, sitting Chief Witch, who was the only one in on his secret agenda, and bowed as the rest of the legislative body for Wizarding Britain turned to stare. "Madam Bones, I haven't had time to get robes made to regulation. May I attend this, my first session, in my normal attire?"

Madam Bones smile down at him. "Of course, Lord Potter-Black. Where will you sit? Traditionally, that is the Black seat, three down on my right, and this is the Potter seat, just beside me."

“I'll sit beside you, if you don't mind, in case I have any questions."

Harry made his way up to the seat, noting in his mind the scornful and self-important looks he was getting from Malfoy and his cronies. He smiled sweetly at Malfoy, and sat down. Madam Bones scanned the room as the Aurors came in.

"Minister Shacklebolt, why so many Aurors?"

"It's the first meeting since the defeat of Voldemort, Madam Bones. There are still some out there who believe that he had followers among the members of the Wizengamot. I want to make sure there are no incidents. Also, having Lord Potter-Black here makes things more potentially dangerous. Trouble does seem to find him."

"I agree," Malfoy oiled, coming to his feet. "I think that having him here endangers us all, and move to have him suspended until he can prove that he is a respectable member of our society by turning over the Death Eater Snape."

"That's enough, Malfoy," Madam Bones said. "Sit down. To business. Lord Potter-Black has requested and been granted leave to speak to this assembly. We will hear him first."

There was an immediate outcry from the stands, and Harry could see that it was only the Death Eaters, trying to egg on their fellow members. After a minute he stood up and stared around. Silence slowly fell.

"I am pleased to address you all, on a subject that will finally and for all time remove the teeth from all of Tom Marvolo Riddle’s  - also known as Voldemort – misguided and evil followers," he said, smiling directly at Lucius Malfoy. He lifted his wand toward the ceiling, not pointing it at anyone, and took a deep, contented breath. "I, Harry James Potter, defeater of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort, do, in this ancient chamber built on the magical law of the Wizarding Kingdom of Great Britain, invoke the Right of Conquest and claim the immediate, mandatory surrender of all who still followed Riddle at his demise. I take into my hand your lands, your chattels, your titles, _and your magic_!"

Screams of fear and outrage sounded around the room as Harry was pelted with the signet rings and wands of 16 members. Furious epithets were hurled at him as he collected the rings and wands into two piles, completely ignoring the angry men and women who had lost them. Finally he looked up and held up his hand, casting a wandless and wordless _Silencio_ and a harmless Sticking Charm at the sixteen ex-members. "You are all scum, who tortured for fun, killed for fun, and stole the hope of the Wizarding world. As your conqueror I am seizing your material and magical goods to distribute among those whom I deem fit to hold them, for the betterment of Wizarding Britain.”

“Lord Potter-Black,” Kingsley called, unaffected by the _Silencio_ , “how can we be sure this isn’t a personal vendetta, rather than implementation of ancient Wizarding law?”

Harry smiled. “Minister Shacklebolt, the magic could not have worked if any one of them was the least bit repentant. I shall give you the spells and details once you have secured these traitorous wretches. But you’ll probably be reassured of my intention and the spell’s efficacy when I tell you that I received the information from Tightfist, Director of Gringotts.”

“Who is the single greatest authority on inheritance in the magical world,” Amelia Bones said.

"That does sound conclusive. It would save a lot of time to avoid trials. But Death Eaters deserve Azkaban, and I would never send anyone there without a trial."

Harry nodded appreciation. "Sadly, you can't send them to Azkaban, as they're all basically Muggles now, irrevocably. Their choice to serve a Dark Lord has made their magic forfeit to that Dark Lord’s conqueror. Also, they have no homes to return to, and no galleons to support themselves with. Like so many that they harmed, they are now helpless and at the mercy of others. They can't even leave this building by Floo without magical assistance."

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then a laugh from the gallery. "Oh, you got them, you did, Lord Harry! Well done!"

Applause began, and grew. Harry released the Silencing and Sticking Charms as the Aurors moved into the stands. The Death Eaters, now less than Muggles in their own eyes, began to fight for the door, and were taken down easily by magic they could no longer produce.

 When all sixteen were in custody and had been ushered out, some still screaming, Harry looked at Kingsley. "Minister, their families will have been forcibly evicted by the magic already. While I know that not all of them are guilty and many of them may have been abused, they are now in the street, and have no money, as all their vaults have been locked against them. They can fall back on Wizarding family on the right side, if they have any, or they can sue me, through the new holder of the conquered property, for relief. I will consider every request on its merits only, and promise to do so as quickly as possible. To that end, I would like your and the Wizengamot’s permission to use Veritaserum and Legilimancy to prove, beyond doubt, the cases of the innocent. If it is known that I will do that, the guilty will not apply for relief and the Ministry can pick them up for suspected Death Eater activity.”

“Good point, Lord Potter-Black,” Kingsley said. “Madam Bones?”

“It is unprecedented, and we should vote on it. Veritaserum is normally only used in court. I put it to the Wizengamot.”

“What constitutes ‘family’ in this instance, Lord Harry?” It was Madam Marchbanks.

“Any blood or marriage relative living under the same roof as the Death Eater.” The old woman thought for a moment, then nodded.

“What about the innocent who are too proud, Lord Harry?”

“Pride is difficult to eat. However, if they choose not to take advantage of this offer they can go about their business. Let it be known to them, however, that if one of them should raise a wand against another wizard for the wrong reasons, their magic will be forfeit - it is part of the Right of Conquest."

A little old wizard near the front row rubbed his hands together. “And now we get the pleasure of debating who will be rewarded with the titles that are now up for grabs! I have a cousin who…”

Harry held up his hand. “I beg your pardon…?”

“Bartelby Brocklehurst, of course. This cousin…”

“Mr. Brocklehurst, the Right of Conquest does not extend to the Wizengamot, only to the conqueror. That would be me. So there is no room for debate and, in fact, I have already awarded the seats as I saw fit. I think my choices will please most of you, however there are a few of you that will find yourselves shaken up. I’m letting some fresh air into this chamber, and before the debate begins, Madam Bones approves of all of my appointments. Auror Dawlish, if you would open the door, our new members should be waiting outside.”

**


	4. In which Severus wakes up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes good

**

"Severus, you would have loved it. I'm going to store the memory for you to view in a pensieve. You, of all people, should see Lucius Malfoy's look when he tried to cast Avada Kedavra with a stolen wand, and couldn't even produce sparks." Harry smiled. "And I know you've never really appreciated Hermione, but you would have loved her today. So fiery. So full of life. All the things you and I aren't, anymore. Although I suppose we might be again, someday. Or, you might be. I'm just so tired."

He looked down and had to still the urge to leap off the bed when he saw the dark eyes partly opened, and staring back at him. But Harry had rehearsed for this moment, so he smiled gently.

"Hullo, Severus Snape. Coming to join us again out here?" He didn't give up the gentle stroking of his fingers through the older man's hair. Instead he summoned a glass of very mild lemonade and a straw, which landed gently on the table nearest Severus.

The black eyes blinked very slowly in the dim light of sunset, and Harry called softly; "Happ, your master's waking. Bring a cool damp cloth, please."

In seconds the little house elf was there, and Harry took the cloth, using it to very gently wipe Severus' eyes of the crusts of two weeks of unconsciousness. Harry watched Severus blink, then focus on him, his lips forming the word 'Potter'.

"Yes, it's me. And before you ask, you're not in hell. This is a house I own in the Caribbean. I brought you here to heal when they tried to arrest you for Death Eater activities. Don't fret, it's all settled, and everyone knows you were a spy for the light." He stopped talking as Severus' eyes sagged closed. "It's been well over two weeks since Voldemort died," he went on, hoping that that Severus understood. "We killed all of his Horcruxes, including the one in me, and then I killed him. He’s really and truly dead. You're safe and cared for, and now that you're awake you can get well. And don't worry that it's me helping you. I've grown up a lot in the last year. I hope you might even approve of me now," he finished, carding his fingers through Severus' hair and smiling.

The black eyes opened and looked into his, as Severus licked his lips. Harry pulled him partly upright against his side, and held the lemonade for him. As Severus took his first small sip, Harry felt the love inside almost overpowering him, and he began to cry. Very quietly. He held the lemonade for Severus and wept silently for several moments, then forced himself to rally as Severus moved his head back in protest from the drink.

"Enough for now?" Harry asked, setting the drink down. "Okay, I'm going to have Happ alert your healers. They'll kill me if they don’t immediately get word that you've woken. Happ? Can you tell Poppy and Longfingers?"

The Goblin was the only one to actually come out on the patio, and he began by bowing deeply to the men on the daybed. "Lord Harry, I heard that our charge had awoken. Poppy’s up in Scotland at the moment. Good evening, Lord Prince! It is an honour and a privilege to be your healer. May I extend the gratitude of the entire Goblin Nation for your great services to magical Britain. Now, let me have a look at your eyes."

When he was done, Harry felt Severus' tension against him, but chose to ignore it. Instead he gave a small laugh. "Lord Prince you may be, and I Lord Harry Potter-Black, but healers will always treat us all like children."

**

Severus was, at first, horrified to find himself practically embraced by Potter, of all people. But as the boy... young man? Young man talked, Severus found himself relaxing in a way he never had before. He felt calm. He felt safe. He felt... he felt like Potter actually cared about him, which was impossible. But the impossibility didn’t stop the feeling. Feeling as if it was okay. Everything was okay. And it was going to stay okay.

**

Harry watched Severus drift away again, but this time there was still some essence of the man present. Longfingers, watching, nodded. "He is sleeping this time, Lord Harry," he said. Harry had gone from Lord Potter, to Lord Potter-Black, to Lord Harry in a few minutes during that Wizengamot session. Even the Daily Prophet had adopted the title. "I expect he will be hungry when he wakes. I will instruct the house elves on what to prepare for him. Do you wish him moved upstairs to a bedroom now?"

Harry shook his head. "No. He’s fine here. I'll just tuck in here with him, Longfingers, I'm exhausted myself. Kreacher?"

Kreacher appeared very quietly. "Is it true that he woke, Master Harry?"

"It is. Can I please have something to eat, something light and quick? I need to sleep too."

Harry inhaled the cold melon soup that Kreacher brought, then stripped down and used the poolside shower to wash off the Wizengamot. Kreacher provided clean boxers, and Harry collapsed onto the wide daybed beside Severus. He was asleep even before the house elves arrived to clean up after him.

**

"Potter."

Harry woke suddenly, and with delight. From the sky it seemed not long before sunrise.  "Severus! You're awake again, that's wonderful," he said softly, rolling over to smile at his... his... "How do you feel?"

"Mr. Potter," the acerbic voice was soft with disuse, barely audible, "is there some reason that you feel it is acceptable for you to be calling me by my first name, whilst mostly naked in my bed?"

Harry coloured, but kept smiling. "Lots of reasons. Are you hungry? I'll fill you in while you eat."

He reached around the feebly protesting man and helped him sit, propping him with pillows as he called, softly. "Happ! Kreacher! Please tell Longfingers and Poppy that Severus is awake again, and would you also please bring us some breakfast."

"Happ is here?" Severus looked around slowly. "Where on earth are we?"

"One of my properties," Harry replied. "It's lovely. When you're feeling better you'll want to explore the forest and the seashore. The potions ingredients! My goodness." Severus’ eyes came to rest on him, looking as if Harry were either a complete stranger or an alien being of some sort.

But at that moment house elves appeared with food, and the two healers came hurrying out of the house while little Happ burst into tears. "Master Severus, you is awake!

"Evidently, Happ." Severus' normal tone was tempered to gentleness with the little elf, then harder again as he looked up at the healers. "Greetings, Poppy. And who are you?" He aimed a very weak glare at the Goblin who was reaching for his hand.

"Longfingers is the best healer from the Goblin Nation, Severus," Poppy said. "We've both been working with your recovery. Now sit still, please.

There were a few moments of quiet confusion as the two healers competed to examine the recovering man. Finally Harry started to laugh. "Can we let the poor fellow eat?"

"Broth only." Poppy nodded as Happ pushed past her, carrying a bed tray with a bowl of light coloured broth and a couple of crackers.

"It is fish broth, made fresh this morning, Madam Pomfrits," Happ said primly. "Happ knows what is best for his poor Master."

Harry took the tray and lowered the legs, setting it across Severus' lap. "If you've all done gawking for the moment, will you let Severus eat, please? Kreacher, I’d like breakfast as well."

The patio cleared, and Harry sat back with a sigh. "Lovely. There are some benefits to being the master of the house."

"Potter..." Severus already looked exhausted again. "What has happened? How am I even alive?"

Harry looked at him. "Short version - your memories told me what to do, and gave me the courage to do it. I let him kill me. But because of Lily's sacrifice, my blood in his veins, all he did was murder his own Horcrux. I came back through the Veil and I killed him, but I did it with a disarming curse. It was his wand’s doing; it refused to attack me because I had, in fact, become its master by disarming Draco Malfoy."

Severus tried to smirk, but only managed a small smile of understanding. "Ah. That's how it worked."

"Yes," Harry acknowledged. "After Tom was dead I realized that your portrait hadn't appeared in the Headmaster's office. Poppy and I went to the Shrieking Shack, found you alive, and carried you back to Hogwarts. We treated your wounds. Kingsley, now Minister for Magic, tried to arrest you and move you to St. Mungo’s, but I wouldn't allow it. I will tell you the whole story at leisure, as you are one of the most important players. You simply will not believe what Neville did. And I have to tell you about the dragon at Gringotts, I promised while you were in coma. But for now, do you want me to help you spoon that up, or transfigure a mug so you can pretend to be holding it and feeding yourself? We are neither of us strangers to the limitations and indignities of being too weak to feed ourselves."

Severus was again looking at Harry as if he had grown another head. Finally he nodded. "Mug, please. I prefer the illusion of self-sufficiency."

Harry laughed, and the bowl of soup became a deep mug with a large, easy to grasp handle. Severus eschewed the handle and wrapped both hands around it, and didn't protest as Harry helped him steady it to his mouth.

When the mug was empty, Severus sagged back into the pillows, but looked slowly around instead of closing his eyes. "Where, precisely, is this place?"

"Caribbean. About 21 degrees north latitude,  one of the Grenadines, just east of St. Vincent. The island belongs to my Black family legacy."

"Ah. Why am I not too hot, then?"

"We've kept cooling charms on this daybed and shelter, so that you would rest comfortably. In here, it's about twenty-one degrees, a warm room for a British invalid. Five steps that way, it's about thirty. Do you like the heat?"

“I don’t know. I’ve never been anywhere warm.” Severus looked at him, and Harry could feel the weighing, the recognition of the soft voice. "You have been here the whole time." It was a statement of fact.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I found that I liked you. Very much. And I wanted to help. The Ministry was in uproar then, and they wanted to make an example of you as a Death Eater. So, I brought you here. I..." Harry paused and looked down at his hands, spreading them wide. "I was confused then, too, because Tom's death... I got a lot from Tom when I killed him. And I thought that so long as I was helping you recover, we might both benefit from some real peace."

"What do you mean, Potter. That you 'got a lot from Tom'." Harry could see both the Hogwarts teacher and the spy in Severus' eyes, and he ran his fingers gently through the potion masters' hair again, smiling.

"Nothing dangerous, Severus. Nothing like what you are probably imagining. And my name's Harry. I only meant that when I killed Tom, it was a complete conquest. I completely disarmed him, taking everything that made him dangerous. I think he died because I took everything out of him. And I mean everything. For the last two weeks while you and I have been here, whenever I can I have been busy cataloguing and storing a whole dark library of information. Memories, dark magic, plans... it's all here, in my head.” Harry shifted from sitting against the pillows, onto his side, propped up on his elbow, as he continued.

“I’ve been using Occlumency to help me cope – yes, I’m no longer pants at Occlumency. When you're strong again I'll be happy for you to look, don't worry. That will set you at rest, but for now please don't try, you're still far too weak. However, for all intents and purposes, Severus, I am everything that Tom was, minus the severe mental illness."

"Oh dear, Potter. So you're the new Dark Lord?" He looked faintly amused, then glanced around. "And I am in your bed? This isn't, perhaps, the best way to clear my name."

Harry laughed, long and hard. "I told Arthur some of it, though I haven't told anyone else, Severus. But I need you to know it. I need you to know everything. Because the memories you gave me, combined with those I have from Tom, the way you have always looked out for me, and a very long conversation I had with Dumbledore on the other side of the Veil while I was dead. Well, let’s just say that you and I need to know each other a lot better than we do.

“I have no desire to get to know you, Potter. I don’t even like you.”

“You don’t know me, Severus, well enough to like or dislike me. Yet. So that tired old lie won’t fly any longer. However, you must put away the grudge you carry, caused by the schoolyard bullying that my father subjected you, and a dozen others, to. Because I am not my father's son, Severus Snape. I am my mother's child, and I have come to love you. As she did."

He held Severus' eyes for a minute, then glanced away at the pool. "Do you feel like sleeping again? Or wash away weeks of sleep in the pool? It's lovely and warm."

Severus was still staring at him. "Do you know, I never learned how to swim. I’ve never even been in a pool."

"I'm not surprised. I hadn’t either. I doubt you had lots of opportunities. But it's not deep and it's salt water. You can float."

"I doubt I can stand, much less walk those few feet. I have the strength of a flobberworm."

"Then allow me to take some liberties with your person." Harry stood up and, casting a Feather Light charm, lifted Severus and carried him down the first four steps of the pool.  A moment later, a quick Switching spell, and both men were in bathing trunks. Harry sat down with a sigh, the water almost up to his neck. Severus, shaking, lowered himself beside him, accepting his steadying hand.

Severus ran his hands up his chest, splashing water over himself, and then waved them through the water. "It does feel nice, doesn't it? Like a very deep, very clean, bath."

"Yes. I come in here a couple of times every day. The trick is to rinse with fresh water after. Or you get itchy."

They sat side by side in the water, faces raised toward the rising sun. After about five minutes, Severus spoke. "Am I getting a sunburn?"

"Perish the thought. Would you like to get a tan?"

"Don't know. Never had one."

Harry turned to him and looked him up and down, then waved a hand.  "I'm not sure how dark you want to go, so that is a melatonin exciter combined with a very mild sunscreen. You should tan without burning. I'll do me, too," he said, waving his hand again."

“Wandless and wordless.”

“Thanks to Tom.”

“Ah.” Severus glanced down at his white chest. "Couldn't you just dye it?"

"Nah. The beauty of a tan, I hear, is working at it."

He nodded. "I think I need to lie down, Potter."

An instant later, and both men were dry and lounging back on the sun-filtered and temperature-charmed daybed. Harry watched as Severus pulled up the sheet, lay back, and closed his eyes. Then he gently ran his fingers through the dark hair. "Sleep in peace, Severus. You're safe and guarded. All is well."

Severus' black eyes flew open. "You really were here. I remember your voice. The whole time."

"Yes. As much as I could be."

"Why?" Severus repeated, sounding a little lost.

Harry smiled gently, then leaned over and kissed Severus' forehead. "Because I wanted to be."

Severus looked as if he wanted to protest, but the sudden exhaustion of an invalid pulled him under.

**


	5. In which Severus decides he likes Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus finally realizes he's hooked, and Harry and Severus take the next step. M/M in this chapter, although romantic more than explicit.

**

Great things were afoot in Wizarding Britain; several orphanages were being set up, staffed, and filled, and the homeless innocent were being homed while the homeless guilty were attempting to get some kind of compensation or trying to learn how to survive as Muggles. The Black Island Floo flared to life several times every day with the new, and old, members of the Wizengamot trying to get the attention and the advice of Britain's most influential and wealthiest wizard. More often than not they went away unnoticed and unadvised, sometimes catching a brief glimpse of Lord Harry out on the grounds with the invalid Severus Snape, recently styled Lord Prince.

Arthur Weasley, and occasionally Molly, were the rare exceptions that always got to see his lordship, as were Tightfist and Hermione. Harry simply didn't care enough about the rest. He trusted those four to bring anything important to his attention.

He felt detached, knew he was a little depressed much of the time, but mostly just enormously relieved to be able to concentrate on what was truly important to him, for a change. Severus’ recovery.

That recovery was slow but steady, and the slowness set the pace for the development of their new friendship. They were conversing without constraint within a couple of days, telling each other about the last year, their lives before that, even their childhoods. It didn’t take Severus long to begin using Harry’s name.

Oddly, they were at ease with each other.

Two weeks after Severus awoke, the two men were head to head over a tropical potions ingredients book, discussing the possibilities for what they might find locally. Kreacher, popping in a few minutes into the discussion, announced Arthur and Tightfist both, and then gave a little cough. "Master Harry, Ebi knows of a wizard whose work that book is about. He knows the trees and plants here. Is Master Harry and Master Severus wanting to meet him?"

Tightfist and Arthur came poolside at that moment, and Harry looked up at them, smiling. "Hey, guys. Tightfist, what's up?"

"A small matter of business, Harry," he said, sitting down.

Severus acknowledged the other two, but his eyes were on Kreacher. "Can Ebi ask this wizard to visit? I would like to speak to a Caribbean expert. It's maddening to be so weak, I wish to be out there, looking for myself."

"Kreacher will ask right away, Master Severus," Kreacher said. Neither man noticed the way Tightfist and Arthur both looked up at that. "Kreacher will bring refreshments."

He popped out, and Harry leaned back against the daybed's headrest. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Nonsense, mostly, for my part," Arthur replied. "The Wizengamot has awarded you both the Order of Merlin, first class, and are hoping that you'll attend the session next week and the public presentation afterward. Well, most of the Wizengamot are. I told them they were dreaming but they sent me to ask you anyway. I'll tell them you said thanks for the honour but you weren't well enough to attend, yes?"

Harry glanced at Severus. “Any interest in attending?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Agreed. Thanks, Arthur. Do up a proxy and you can vote my seats. How’s the family?”

“Very well. Molly loves being a chatelaine, I wouldn't have believed it. She's full on into the orphans, and George is reviewing Muggleborns affected by the war, and needing assistance. I couldn't have believed anything would help with their grief. Well. They're both seriously happy, thanks to you. Missing Fred, of course, as are we all, but not overwhelmed by it. You really made a difference. Thank you."

"Nonsense," Harry said, blushing. "Nothing to thank."

Arthur shook his head. "As for your erstwhile best mate, he's learning to be a retailer. It seems to be something that might teach him a sense of responsibility. And better yet, I think I finally convinced Ron that he was barking up the wrong tree by going after Hermione. Much as I love her, she is way too smart for my son. Sadly, though, I believe he's dating Romilda Vane."

"Yikes! She used to have better taste in men."

"I don't know that she did. Wasn’t she after you at one time, Harry?" Severus asked drily, not looking up from his book. Harry swatted him.

"Mind yourself, Severus. I was, after all, the Chosen One."

"Chosen One, my ass."

"You're just jealous because all the girls and boys were panting after me."

"Is that cracking I hear the sound of hell freezing over?" Snape responded.

Tightfist rolled his eyes. "Chosen One, I have some papers to go over on the sale of the two Muggle residences. Lord Prince, do you wish to have any input on the Spinner's End property?" Harry rose and began to walk toward his 'business table', where he knew the Goblin would follow him.

Severus shuddered, and glanced at the Goblin. "If I had my way, you'd burn it. But do what you can and want, and give the money to Molly for the bloody orphans."

"Thank you, Severus," Arthur said. "Do you mind if I look at that with you? Harry and Tightfist will be a while, and I am really quite interested in tropical plants."

"Look at this, then. Does it remind you of anything?"

He tipped the book, and Arthur took Harry's place on the daybed. "It's a lot like hyssop!"

"Yes, but maddeningly it seems to have completely different properties..."

Severus still tired quickly, and it wasn't half an hour later that the book slipped in his fingers and Arthur made his excuses to leave. Harry seemed to sense it from where he was. A moment later he'd said goodbye to both of them and was back at Severus' side.

As they walked into the house, Arthur looked down at Tightfist. "Director, did Kreacher refer to Severus as 'Master Severus'?"

Tightfist nodded, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if those two even realize it yet. They say that house elves are always the first to know."

"So Kreacher accepts Severus as equal in his home with Harry." He blew out a breath. "There's something I didn't expect."

"I've been wondering for a while. They're very much alike. And both of them have been used hard by the world. Is it a wonder they should find companionship together?"

"No." Arthur laughed. "No, not really. It's just that I was kind of hoping that someday Harry might see Ginny, or Hermione, that way."

"Ah... Well, let me set your mind at rest," Tightfist said, as gently as a Goblin could. "Lord Harry would never have seen them in that way. Goblins always know. It’s in your scents. Lord Prince, now... he entertains both sexes and all genders... we Goblins see these things differently than you. Men and women are not absolutes. You are a man for a woman. Severus is a man for himself. But Harry is a man's man."

Arthur blinked. "I would like to learn more about 'all genders', Tightfist," he said. "I always thought there were only two. But if Severus swings both ways, well. He'd better not hurt Harry, that's all I can say!"

"Arthur, it doesn't mean that he is incapable of being a good and committed friend and partner," Tightfist scolded. "It only means he has had a lot more to choose from. And, if the house elves are anything to go on - and from my long experience I believe they are - Severus seems to be choosing our young friend Harry."

**

Severus found he was increasingly comfortable with this new Harry. At least, what he at first thought was a _new_ Harry. After a few days of relaxed discussion, easy silence, and shared confidences he realized that this wasn’t a new Harry, any more than he was a new Severus. It was just that both men were finally freed of the burden of other people’s expectations. Harry was free to be himself, as was Severus.

It didn’t frighten him at all. It made him happy. Severus didn’t remember the last time he had been happy.

And Harry wasn’t a boy in school anymore, either. That made a difference. He was a grown wizard by anyone’s measurement. In fact, he had his eighteenth birthday, marked by a flurry of exhausted owls, a few weeks after Severus awoke. Harry was a man by anyone’s measure, a man who’d seen and done more in his short life than most ever would.

Severus found he respected this Harry. Respected and liked him.

He use Legilimancy to observe the memories and magic that Harry had inherited from the dead Voldemort, and marvelled at the neat boxes that it had been filed into. Harry didn’t need to ever see the memories again, he’d so effectively stored them. Severus was very impressed. When he moved out of Harry’s mind he’d had no reservations about praising the younger man to the skies.

Harry had smiled and patted his arm, looking away, until Severus had grabbed his chin and forced his eyes back. “Harry Potter, I am absolutely serious, and you need to learn how to accept a compliment. You’re a remarkable young man. Your mother would have been proud of you. Probably your father, too.”

“Whoa, really pushing the boat out, Severus!”’

“Just this once.”

Neither of them was sure when the touching went from Harry gently stroking the hair of an invalid he hoped to befriend, to Severus holding and gently stroking the young man who had befriended him. It was almost three months after he'd woken to his new life, Severus found himself on a jungle path, using Harry as a cane, when something the younger man said just, very simply, enchanted him, and he pulled Harry around to face him.

The green eyes were alight; the small, tough frame was hard under his hands as Severus grasped Harry’s shoulders. "You... you have ensorcelled me," he said, and saw the light in the green eyes change. He bent, very slightly, to brush his lips over Harry's, then he stood again to observe.

Harry's eyes had closed, and his breathing had become fast and short. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked up at Severus, and there was want there. Naked want. "Severus...

""Yes."

"I... I've never..."

Severus smiled. Affection and, were he honest, love, were bubbling in his chest. Not wanting to embarrass or frighten Harry, he spoke very mildly. "Surely you've been with a girl before, Harry, at the very least, if not a boy or a man."

Harry looked away, with a very self-conscious smile heating his cheeks. "No, no I haven’t. Once, when I was fifteen, I kissed a girl, and when I was sixteen I kissed Ginny a few times. She was so young but was so much more experienced than I. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t know why. She wanted to do more. I stopped, told her I didn’t want to do anything until I was married. She thought I meant to her. She was happy. But it felt wrong, not like I’d hoped it would feel. And I've just... I've just been too busy to learn anything except how to kill Voldemort." A moment of silence, then a very soft whisper. "Then I saw your memories, and I knew I only, really, wanted you. After that, I really didn’t want to use the information I got from Voldemort about sex, to help me with you, Severus, because he knew nothing about that kind of feeling. I'm sorry."

Severus felt his blood pound at the knowledge that Harry was completely untouched. "Never. Never apologize to me, Harry. But if you think you want this, want me, then I will be happy... no, I would be honoured and delighted, to help you learn. Please, keep Tom Riddle in his box. But be honest with me, and with yourself. We both deserve that. Does this feel right to you, the way you hoped it would feel with Ginny? Do you truly want me?"

Harry leaned forward, resting his forehead on Severus' chest. "I do. Of course I do. I have for ages. But I thought... it doesn't matter what I thought. Yes."

"It does matter what you thought. Very much."

Harry was silent for a moment, and Severus was afraid he might back away. But then his voice came, slightly muffled. "I didn't realize I was gay for the longest time. And I didn't think... I was sure you weren't. Because of Lily."

"We were friends. Not lovers."

"I wasn't sure. And I didn't care, in the end, if you were or you weren't. I decided that to live with you as a friend was enough. I could do that. I was going to do that. I would never have spoken."

"And now I am your friend. But you would like to have more, between us?"

A pause, and then the head pressed against his chest nodded. "I had hoped. I still hope."

"That is what I, too, hope for." He tipped Harry's face up, and kissed him softly, gratified when Harry pressed closer to him and moaned. It took all of Severus’ self-control to straighten up, shaking his head to clear it before he could make the mistake of pushing Harry up against a tree and ravishing him. "But not here, and not now. Shall we make a date, Harry, and do this properly? Because I absolutely refuse to be casual about something as important as a young man's first experience of sex with someone he loves."

Harry startled, and looked up at him intently. "You do understand me. That is what I want. I do love you."

"Then, my young love," he responded, and delighted at the suddenly closed eyes and small smile, "that is exactly what you shall get."

 **

They chose a bedroom together, going over every possible room in the house and discussing the merits and shortcomings of each. Finally, without reservation, they chose one of three huge suites overlooking the ocean. It had a completely private deck that was almost as large as the bedroom, and from which a rune-based magical staircase led directly into the garden off of one corner, a second one twisting through magical space to exit between the pool and the beach in twelve steps.

The room was a soft creamy green colour that both men found soothing, and boasted an enormous tropical fruitwood four-poster bed that was raised well off the floor to discourage pests, even if any pests could have made it through the wards around the room. The wards made the mosquito netting that draped the bed purely ornamental, but both men loved the look of it. It was like their childhood bed curtains, but see-through. A way to feel even cosier, when in the bed.

The rest of the furnishings were lovely, in the same wood as the bed posts. A large dressing room had its own gigantic walk-in closet attached. The floor, in a rough ochre ceramic tile, was cool underfoot.

Attached to the bedroom was an enormous bathroom that was partially outdoors, by virtue of the shower wall being only half-high and looking out onto the deck, and the wall behind the whirlpool bath being one-way glass looking toward the ocean.

Severus noted that after they had chosen the bedroom, Harry had a little fit of nerves. The younger wizard was clasping and rubbing his hands as he fixed his attention on the bed, then the mirror, then the bathroom door. Severus settled on the patio and waited until Harry finally joined him, hands rather loose, and sat uncomfortably on the chair beside his. Severus forced himself to remain calm and take things slowly.

“Harry? Worried?”

“Nervous, I guess.”

“Understandable.” Severus watched him for a moment, and then came to a decision. “Happ, Kreacher,” he called softly.

The little house elves appeared instantly. “Master Severus.”

“Harry and I are going to share this room from now on, whenever we decide to sleep in the house. I would like it if the sheets were clean every day, and the towels also. For now, I would like you to draw a warm bath, and turn down the bed. And would you please bring a bottle of Moet et Chandon, and a plate of cheese and fruit.”

“Of course, Master Severus. Anything else?”

“Pitchers of ice water by the bed, and another at the bath. Bring a second bottle of Moet et Chandon and leave it on ice by the bed, in case we want it later. I don’t think we’re going to want to see a lot of you two for the rest of the evening. And Kreacher, I need you to go to my old potion store room, at Hogwarts, and bring the small black bag from the third shelf to the left of the door. Can you do that? Deliver it to the bedside table.”

“Of course, Master Severus.”

Both elves vanished. Harry’s nerves increased, but he forced himself to smile at Severus. “Like that completely fooled them into thinking we were just going to sleep here.”

“You can’t hide sex from house elves, Harry.” Severus stopped, and felt a shock go through him. “Do you know that Kreacher just called me ‘Master Severus’? “

Harry grinned, shaking his head. “He’s been doing that for weeks, Severus. Shouldn’t he?”

Severus smiled, reaching over and taking Harry’s hand. “Harry, Kreacher is your elf. For him to call me ‘Master’ means that he sees that I am committed to you – that I mean to stay with you and that he will treat me equal to you. They say you can’t hide love from a house elf, either.”

Wonder rose in the gorgeous green eyes. “Oh! That means Happ and Jelly, when they started calling me Master Harry?”

“I’m afraid that, in the eyes of our elves, we’re already married.”

Both men chuckled, and then Harry sobered. “I like that.”

“Me too.” He pulled Harry to his feet and led him indoors, to the gigantic bathroom. “Let’s start easy, shall we? Happ can deliver the food in here…”

There was a pop and two huge trays appeared, standing beside the already filled bath, followed by a wine cooler and two champagne flutes.

“… and you and I can very casually pretend that this isn’t any different from lounging in the pool in the afternoon. Let’s see where we go from there, shall we?”

He bent down and kissed Harry gently, then turned around and slipped his shorts off. As he stepped into the bath, he heard Harry moving behind him and, a moment later, the younger man settled beside him in the enormous tub.

Severus gave him the mental space he needed to adjust to this, by reaching out and pouring them each a glass of champagne, and then making up a plate of treats to share. He set the plate on the shelf near their heads, and handed Harry a glass.

“First champagne?”

“First everything, Severus,” Harry replied.

“To you, my young love,” Severus smiled, raising his glass. “I think you were probably less nervous facing Tom Riddle.”

“I think you’re right. I guess I didn’t care what _he_ thought of me.”

Severus laughed and clinked his glass. “To us, Harry. To us.”

After a few minutes and a glass of champagne Harry was relaxed enough for Severus to slip an arm around him and pull him close.

**

When Severus pulled him against his shoulder and kissed him, Harry felt as if he were melting into the warm bath water. He’d wanted this – God he’d wanted this – for so long, that now it was happening he found it hard to believe. The water bedevilled him – he was too short for this tub and had to rely on Severus to anchor him, to hold him close so that he could keep on kissing…

The arm that wasn’t holding him began to stroke, and Harry could hear himself moaning at the sparks of pleasure racing up and down his skin. “Don’t worry,” Severus whispered, directly into his mouth. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

Harry’s body almost spasmed with the intense bound of his heart. He kept trying to think, to be part of this, to contribute…

… but it wasn’t possible. Severus knew exactly what he was doing, and Harry was completely helpless in his inexperience. He whimpered, his nervousness returning, and Severus drew back immediately.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked at the beautiful black eyes, inches from his own, and realized that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. When had Severus removed his glasses? “I’m… I’m okay. I’m just… I’m overwhelmed. And I don’t know what to do… and it all feels so new…”

Severus smiled understanding, and nodded. Harry found himself relaxing just seeing that smile. “I’m afraid that you’re in for a lot of that for the next few days, my love. Because I’m afraid that you excite me terribly, and I’m going to take a few days on these lessons, just so that we both get the most out of them.”

A gasp of pleasure escaped Harry as he understood what Severus meant – Severus really did want this, really found Harry sexually exciting, wasn’t put out at all by his lack of experience.

“But I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

Severus kissed his nose, then his lips. “I know. But I do know what to do, and in a few days you’ll be an old hand at all of this. Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then for now, relax, and let me be in charge. I promise that I won’t hurt you, or laugh at you, or tease you. I will love you. And you will enjoy it. Is that okay?”

Harry felt like he almost couldn’t breathe he was so excited.

“Yes. Yes.”

“Then let me kiss you for a while until I get myself back under control. And then I will take you to our bed.”

**


	6. In which we move forward, and receive an invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone awaiting the big sex scene, stop waiting. I do write great sex, but this tale is rated teen and up, so the shivery sort of things in the tub are about as graphic as it will probably get. This is for the romantics, who will take the bathtub to bed with them and imagine the denouement! 
> 
> For the NC-17 readers among us, I will try to be a bit more graphic in future tales. 
> 
> This chapter starts with the morning after.

When Harry woke the next morning he felt like he’d played a really long game of Quidditch – every part of him was a little bit achy. He smiled happily, remembering how he’d earned those aches.

Rolling over he saw Severus was sitting up and smiling at him. “I was watching you sleep. I watched you wake up. I saw the moment you remembered last night. You smiled.”

“I’m still smiling,” Harry said. He slid over and laid his head on Severus chest, wrapping an arm and leg around him. “That was amazing. I had no idea.

“Mmmmm. You were wonderful, Harry. And I really enjoyed it. And I’d like to do it again.” Severus ran his fingers down Harry’s neck and side, stroking. Harry felt himself becoming almost instantly aroused.

“Now?”

“Of course. And again after breakfast. And then maybe we could try something new in the pool.”

Harry arched against Severus, once again overwhelmed but not, this time, afraid. “Oh, yes, please, Severus. Very much yes, please.”

**

Harry had worried that giving himself to Severus might mean giving up his power - but it didn't. Severus was as concerned about personal boundaries as Harry, and forced him to talk about things that he would have been ashamed to otherwise. And slowly, Harry came to realize that adults did talk about things like this. Boundaries. Needs. Desires. Love. Lust.

He loved it.

He was perfectly happy to let Severus take the lead in their relationship, for, as he told him; "You have all the experience, Sev. I only have the lunatic’s memories of experience, and trust me, you don't want me using them in our love life."

Severus snorted in agreement. "Too true. However, Harry, it may be useful for us to turn over these memories of yours, which you inherited from old Tom. Not the disgusting things he did, obviously. I'm thinking more of memories of things he did that we may find useful now."

Harry blinked. "Things he... do you mean, like the Muggle victims' names, so that we can see if they're okay, or need help? Because there are a lot of those."

"Oh, love, that's hard." Severus gathered Harry into his arms. "I think that if we do take any strolls down memory lane with old Tom, we do it together, somewhere we aren't afraid to touch each other. To take away the sting."

Harry  nodded. "How old was he? Do you know? He didn't know himself, not within a year. Seventy-something."

"Yes, he was born in the twenties, I think."

"So children from the orphanage with him, Muggle children, might still be alive. There's a memory."

**

"Harry?" Sprawled on the bed by the pool, the tropical symphony of frogs loud under a star-spangled sky, Severus was awakened by the sure knowledge that Harry was in trouble. The younger man was lying rigid beside him, obviously in the midst of a powerful nightmare. "Harry! Wake up," he said gently, stroking Harry's wild mane of hair and gripping one arm gently to shake it.

The younger man didn't move, firmly caught in his dream. Severus lay down beside him again and gathered him into his belly. "Harry, my young love, wake up. It's just a dream, it's not real. You're here, with me, and you're safe and loved."

He stroked his hands from Harry's shoulders to his hands, then around to his hips. Harry woke suddenly, shouting! "No! Never! Go to hell, I will NEVER join you!"

Severus kissed the rigid neck. "Exactly right, Harry. Never, you will never join them. Are you okay, love? That sounded pretty fraught.

Harry turned around, and buried his face in Snape’s shoulder. "It never ends, does it?"

"I'm hopeful, actually. What was that all about? One of yours, of one of the big prick's?"

"Mine. When I was eleven. The possessed Quirrel episode. You know." He rolled over and took a tissue from the bedside table. "Sorry to snot up all over you."

"What are lovers for? Come on, we both need more sleep."

"Hey, I'm a distressed man, here. I need sexual healing."

Severus chuckled. "Okay, distressed man. But let me just hold you for a couple of minutes? I'm feeling rather protective at the moment."

**

Another three weeks passed, before Arthur stood at the big picture window of the Caribbean house, looking down at the two men in the garden below him. Severus was walking unaided now, seemingly almost back to normal. Or as normal as he would ever be. Arthur suspected that the slight limp would always be with him.

Both he and Harry were darkly tanned, and both were dressed in the loose skirt-like garment that fit the climate so well. Neither wore a shirt. Arthur was intrigued to see the possessive gestures that Severus was using. A hand in the small of Harry's back guiding him in a new direction, a gentle touch on the shoulder stopping him, or bringing him around to talk for a moment. Harry, as always, seemed perfectly at ease with Severus.

Molly had moved up beside him, and was watching as well. He glanced down, fearing the worst, but was pleased when Molly smiled up at him. "Do you know, Arthur, I think those two are in love."

Arthur smiled at his bride of almost 40 years. "I think you're right, Molly. It eases my heart to know that both of those abused men are finding something valuable out of all of this. They deserve love. Why are people so stupid about them both? Well. My best wishes are with them."

"Mine too, Arthur. But you know that others won't be so accepting. Wizarding Britain has their darling Harry hitched up with every important female under the age of forty."

Arthur laughed. "Can you imagine Harry with anyone else? Oh, it's too funny. Well, who knows if they'll ever even come back to Britain? Shall we go down and say hello?"

Harry looked up and waved when he saw them crossing the lawn, and spoke briefly to Severus, before both men turned and walked toward them. "Hello Arthur, Molly," Severus said. "We weren't expecting visitors today, people don't normally come early in the week."

"If we're intruding, we apologize," Molly said. "But a very important person has requested... not actually requested, so much as expressed a wish that shouldn't be denied."

"What Molly's saying is that you two have come to the attention of a group of people that want to meet you. I know you don't want to see people, but you might find this amusing." Arthur told them about the Queen of Great Britain, who was also the titular ruler of the Wizarding, wanting to meet them after hearing about the war and its aftermath from her Prime Minister.

"She wants to give you a reward of some kind, but she doesn't want a public ceremony either. And I think she really just wants to meet you both. Stories of your incredible courage have reached her. You know," Molly said thoughtfully, "you might consider having a professional writer tell the story properly, so that you have control over what people are saying about you. Especially since..."

Arthur grabbed her arm and cut her off, smoothly. "Especially since the wrong sort of people are telling the story now. Rita Skeeter, that lot."

Harry shook his head. "We really don't care what people think, Molly."

"I wish you would consider it though, Harry," she said gently. "I'd like to be able to teach my grandchildren about the war in which my son died, about the value of courage and sacrifice, and you both are beautiful examples of it. But if I die before I get the chance, all they will have is popular culture and Rita Skeeter."

Both men looked thoughtful for a moment, and then Severus shrugged. "We'll think about it, Molly. What about the Muggle queen, then? Harry, can you imagine my father turning over in his grave?" Both Arthur and Molly startled a bit at the sight of Severus grinning.

"Can you imagine Petunia and Vernon? Ho! Actually, I wish I hadn't thought of that." he looked slightly ill.

 "Hmmm, you are forbidden to even think about them again, my Lord Harry," Severus said in a teasing voice. "You need to put a lid on that box. When is this event supposed to occur? Would they come here? I really don't fancy going north again."

"Well, in fact they probably would come here, you two are _bona fide_ heroes after all." Arthur nodded. "You could put them up for a night or two? We would have to discuss everything with their secret service please-men and I'm not sure how we would get them here... can Muggles even get into somewhere Unplottable?"

"They can," Severus said dryly. "However, I'm not sure I want them here." He glanced at Harry. "We'll talk about it. I'm torn between wanting to preserve this as a refuge of peace, unsullied by any pomp or ceremony, and wanting to avoid Britain forevermore."

"I agree, Sev," Harry said. "I really feel like having people down here is already hard, but inviting Muggles, no matter how important they are, doesn’t appeal. At the same time, it's easier to control what's going on, if we're on our own turf. But it won’t be if MI6, or whatever, is involved."

"I can understand both points of view," Arthur agreed. "There isn't any time limit on it, really. I think if you let us know in a few days we can set something up. Done. Okay. One more favour request to pass on, and then I'm going to need a margarita. Minerva McGonagall doesn't expect you to accept, but she offers you both teaching positions at Hogwarts whenever you please. Defence and Potions, obviously. She has also requested that you visit her. She claims that she's afraid of travelling such a long way."

"Minnie McGonagall, afraid of anything on God's green earth?"

"I think she's afraid of you, Severus. Last time she saw you she was rather upset."

"Ah." Severus nodded. "I remember. She was trying very hard to kill me. I don’t blame her one bit. I shall write to her."

"Thank you." Arthur grinned. "I'm ready for my margarita now. It's really why I come down here, you know. I poll my acquaintance for excuses to use."

Harry snorted happily and Severus chuckled.

"Arthur!" Molly smacked his arm, and then laughed as, ahead of them in a gazebo by the pool, a glistening pitcher of margaritas and four frosted glasses appeared. "You boys are getting pretty tanned. Are you sure that's good for you? I've heard that the Muggles think too much sun ages your skin prematurely."

"I like the sun," Harry said simply.

"And what Harry likes, Harry gets," Severus said, smiling down. Arthur winked at Molly, who drew a deep breath before speaking.

"So, are you two going to make a formal announcement?" Arthur groaned, preparing to apologize.

Harry gasped and stopped walking. Severus spun around and took his shoulders gently, bending to whisper in his ear, lower than Arthur could hear. He turned and glared at Molly, who looked mortified.

Harry relaxed after a moment and Severus kissed his forehead gently, before straightening up. After a moment he turned and guided Harry to a chair as he spoke.

"No, we're not. We're not going to discuss our relationship with anyone. We will simply not hide our relationship. We won’t talk about it. This is our home, and we won't pretend here to be anything less than what we are. I am fortunate enough to have had Harry invite me to share his life. That is that. And outside of our home, I hope you will respect our reticence. The world has had enough fun at our expense already."

Arthur nodded. "I get that. And we will respect your confidence, of course. Not even family," he said warningly to Molly, and she nodded contritely.

"Not even family. I promise. Because, as both Percy and Ron have sadly proven, family isn't always trustworthy."

Arthur nodded again, looking at Severus. “I think that Harry’s privileged information charm would be useful here.”

“Are you saying we can’t trust you?” Harry looked stricken.

Molly opened her mouth, then closed it for a moment before speaking. “Harry, you know you can absolutely trust us to do what you ask of us. However, unlike Arthur I sometimes blurt things out when I’m emotional. I love you very much, dear, and I would hate to be the one to betray your confidence, but I expect it’s likely that I would. You know – Ginny would have one of her goopy friends over and they’d be  mooning about you while I was baking and I’d just open my mouth before I thought and say something ridiculous like ‘well you’ll both have to battle Severus Snape for him, and I don’t much fancy your chances’.”

Arthur stared at his treasure of a wife, and began to laugh. “Harry, cast your charm. We don’t mind. Molly’s absolutely right.”

Harry grinned at them, and Arthur knew it was okay. It wasn’t lack of trust; it was an adult understanding of a person’s limitations.

**

The Lord Harry Insiders Society gradually came to understand that a new alliance had been formed, and that it was their privilege to be 'in the know' about it. It didn't take long, just a few weeks, and pretty much everyone that needed to know, did know. Funnily enough, none of them ever talked about it.

Harry and Severus conspired to visit Hogwarts the last week of August, to visit the headmistress. It was a short, unpleasant visit, Hogwarts being too full of terrible memories for the two men. Minerva was still fit and on her mettle, but had told them she was preparing to retire.  "I'm tired, my friends. Old and tired. I want leave to enjoy a few years of peace with my family, and we have a Charms Master and Duelling Champion on staff who has long been overdue for promotion. And he has another fifty years in him to handle Hogwarts."

“Will the board accept him?” Harry asked. “Filius is part Goblin.”

“Thanks to you, they’ll find that kite won’t fly. He’s on the Wizengamot, therefore he’s eligible for the job.”

Severus nodded. "I concur. An excellent choice, Minnie. And you really must come and visit us in the Caribbean, my old friend. You are welcome, and would love our place. The journey is nothing by portkey, no worse than the Leaky Cauldron to the Hogshead. By the way, have you any interest in meeting the Muggle Queen? We are going to visit her at her palace, and we are invited to bring a... what did they call it, Lord Harry?"

"An éntourage, Lord Prince."

"Yes, and the current leading Mistress of Transfiguration in Britain, as well as the Headmistress of Hogwarts, would look great as one of our advisers. And you may find it fun. Or funny."

"Queen Elizabeth, why that would be interesting. We're of an age, you know. But no one would ever believe that you two would take any advice that I gave you. Still, count me in and I thank you for the invitation." She blinked at them. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but are you two a couple?”

Harry grinned as he raised a hand. “We are, Minerva, but that is Privileged Information.”

**


	7. Chapter 7

It was a shock for Wizarding Britain, two weeks later, to see Lord Harry Potter-Black and Severus, Lord Prince entering the Ministry of Magic together, followed by a small group of very influential witches and wizards. Celebrity spotters recognized Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick, the present and future Hogwarts heads; Hermione Granger, Head of the Magical Creatures Equality Commision; Arthur and Molly Weasley, Principle Advisors on the Orphans Committee, with their son George Weasley, Head of Muggleborn Re-Homing; Luna Lovegood, Editor in Chief of the Quibbler, and Director Tightfist of Gringotts. The group ignored everyone around them and went straight up to the Minister's office.

**

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood up as the Potter Party, as he thought of them, entered his office. He straightened his kandura and looked at the two men leading the group. "Lord Harry, Lord Prince. There are just a few points of protocol that you need to be advised on before you leave."

"Hello, Kingsley," Harry interrupted. "Are you still so embarrassed about what happened that you can't take a moment to actually exchange greetings with old comrades, or even old friends? Though, since you haven't made any real effort to see me or Severus before now, perhaps our comradeship leading up to vanquishing Voldemort has paled since you failed to bring us in as fugitives, or since you achieved your high position? Or, since we have done our task, are you are no longer interested in us as people? You didn't even say 'hi', and you completely ignored our entourage.”

Shacklebolt stared, and then blinked rapidly. He had become immersed in the persona of 'Minister' and forgotten that not everyone was going to stop what they were doing to accomodate his agenda. "I apologize, Lord Harry. I never seem to have time for pleasantries, these days. I am always on such a tight schedule."

"But we are not," Severus said smoothly. "Nor are the friends we have brought with us. We are all here at your request, on our own time. We are doing you a favour. We would, in fact, preferred to have remained in the Caribbean. So rudeness, even if you do regard Lord Harry as nothing more than a political pawn, is simply unforgiveable."

There was a long silence in the room, while Kingsley realized that he might be the Minister for Magic, but the true power of Britain's magical world stood before him in one young man. And, perhaps to an even greater extent in the tall man at his side and the friends he had chosen to accompany him. He pulled a great about-face.

"You are so right, Severus. I apologize for my boorish behaviour. My only excuse is that I have become too much the Minister, and simply didn’t think before I spoke. I’ve been looking forward to your visit for a week now. It’s lovely to see all of you – it seems ages since the Order last met. Miss Lovegood, I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of shaking your hand. Welcome. Come on, let's have a drink and I'll answer any questions you might have about Her Majesty, and there are, seriously just a couple of minor things you should know."

Severus shook his head. "We already know everything we need to know, Kingsley. Please don’t fuss. I would like a Scotch, if you have any good single malt. Minerva too? Harry, glass of wine?"

“Thanks, that would be lovely. Any white that isn’t chardonnay.”

**

"They're so late," the Prime Minister said, glancing at his watch again. "This just won't do. Ah!"

The fireplace at Number 10 finally flared green, and the first of the Wizarding contingent came through, two good looking young women, a blond and a brunette. Then a middle-aged red-headed couple, then a really old woman and a young man who had red hair like the previous couple, then two very small men... who looked distinctly foreign. As they were all introducing themselves and brushing the soot off of their clothes, the fireplace flared again, and the Prime Minister knew he had his guests of honour.

However, since they were all running late, he didn't, luckily, have time to fawn on them. Instead all of them were bundled into cars very quickly, and sent off to the Palace.

The Prime Minister was sorry he wasn't going with them. The meeting should prove to be interesting.

"Look there, Severus, is that it?"

"Did your worthless relatives never take you to see Buckingham Palace, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No. You know they never took me anywhere."

"Well, then, yes. That is Buckingham Palace. And you and I are going to use some glamours and come back to see the sights of London. Honestly." He looked at the 'minder' with them in their car. "Do you know if we're meeting any of the royal family besides Her Majesty?"

The man looked stunned. "Do you mean, you haven't been briefed?"

"If we had been, would I have asked?" Severus sneered, earning a snort from Harry.

The man looked horrified. "It's far too late now. My word! You do know that you refer to her as 'ma'am' after the initial introduction?

"Yes, yes. Never mind."

The cars were drawing up to a covered porch and door area in an inner courtyard. When it stopped Harry let Severus help him out. "I can't say I like that kind of transport much," Harry said, "especially if someone else is driving. Reminds me too much of going home from school."

Arthur and Molly were walking up from behind them, almost unrecognizable in the highest of Wizarding fashion - the whole group had gone all out to uphold Wizarding Britain's honour. "Do you know how to drive, Severus?"

"Indeed I do, Arthur. Passing for Muggle is helpful when I go on ingredient acquisition trips."

"Well, I envy you. Maybe you can take us driving sometime."

"Heavens Arthur! You go. I don't like it any more than Harry does."

"Yup. I'll stay behind with Molly and she can teach me that great cookie recipe that I've always wanted to have... the almond ones, Molly? With the sprinkles? Yummy!”

"Harry Potter, you do not cook."

"Severus Snape, I like cooking and I'm good at it. It's like potions. You know. I’ll tell you about it sometime, but I warn you, it has a Dursley rating of ten on it."

The chat had brought them all into a sort of reception area, where servants were offering to take their outer robes. All of the witches and wizards looked astonished. "Um... we'll just keep them? It's part of the uniform of the day, like a dinner jacket." Hermione finally said. They seemed to understand that, and the group were escorted, en masse, into a large room where half a dozen Muggles were standing about, most of the men in uniforms and the women in formal gowns.

Someone had been given a score card, because a dinner-suited gentleman came forward, straight up to Severus. "Severus, Lord Prince, isn't it? And you, young man, are Lord Harry Potter-Black, the Boy who Lived, The Chosen One, and The Slayer of Voldemort. I am one of Their Majesties' chief advisers, Lord Burley. I believe I can identify the rest of your party, as well."

“Lord Burley.”

“Lord Prince?”

“My young friend prefers not to be called by any of those ridiculous names,” Severus said softly, a threat obvious in his voice. “I don’t know who told you that he should be called those things. If you want us to stay, you will introduce him, henceforth, as Lord Harry. Just Lord Harry.”

Burley looked, smiled, and nodded. “Of course. Lord Harry it is. My apologies if I made anyone uncomfortable, not my intention.”

He went on to introduce himself to the other magicals, and then he very smoothly made them all known to the royal mundanes, most of them children, grandchildren or cousins of the Queen. When everyone had been introduced, and a few light conversations begun, Lord Burley gave a signal to a waiting footman, and a door opened. A moment later, the Queen and Prince Phillip were announced.

Harry pushed up hard against Severus, and the older man put an arm around him, looking down and ignoring the royals. "Harry, relax. I think these are decent people. We may learn something to our benefit, and even make a friend. What do you say?"

"Panic attack," Harry said.

The Queen had stopped when she had seen that the young hero she was supposed to meet first was going through a full blown anxiety attack. It had happened before, and she knew what to do. She moved aside and spoke to her grandsons, briefly, and then to one of the friends of the young man, a lovely young woman. Finally, when she came to be in front of the two guests of honour, she found them both looking rather uncomfortable. She imagined they wished themselves elsewhere, and decided, against protocol, to say so.

"You two look as if you wish you were almost anywhere else. I'm so sorry for that." She smiled, letting them begin to protest, before addressing the elder. "You must be Severus, Lord Prince. I have to tell you that I love your name. It's truly wonderful. I’m petitioning my grandson to name one of my great grand-children after you; you must tell me the name’s origins. I recognize the Latin, of course, but perhaps there’s a family history? Welcome, and can you please introduce me to your young friend?"

It was the perfect way to calm Severus, which in turn relaxed Harry. "Your Majesty, this is Harry Potter-Black. Lord Harry."

"I think he has some titles that you're omitting?"

Severus squeezed Harry's shoulders briefly. "Lord Harry, this is the moment when you greet Her Majesty."

Harry actually laughed, and bowed slightly. "Your Majesty. I am Harry. Just Harry. I'm very pleased to meet you. "

The silence in the room was like pressure on the ear. Elizabeth smiled. "Pleased to meet you, too. May I introduce my husband? Come, let's talk for a few minutes before we do the official thing, would you mind?"

"No, ma'am, not at all, of course."

Severus kept his arm around Harry's shoulders as they followed Elizabeth to a window seat, where a servant drew up a chair for Her Majesty. Harry sat down in the window and leaned against Severus. "I am really sorry, ma'am, I'm not a nervous person, but something just triggered a panic attack."

Severus smiled as Harry looked up at him. "Lord Harry and I have both been recovering from severe post-traumatic stress disorder, and in fact a kind of generalized stress disorder, which makes our emotional responses to things a bit unpredictable."

Queen Elizabeth nodded. "I have seen that kind of thing with returning warriors before, gentlemen. It doesn't mean a strong man is suddenly weak, it simply means that he has had enough. I was given to understand that you were recovered enough from your ordeals to manage a family party, which is what this is, in essence."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "That came out of the blue. I'm ready for whatever you had planned, now."

She smiled warmly. "Good. But there's no rush. Tell me about your companions. Who is that lovely woman? She seems about my age."

The three of them spoke of the others in the room, and gradually Harry's shaking stopped. Finally the Queen leaned over and patted his knee. "Lord Harry, I have a proposition to make to both you and your friend Severus. I will make it publicly, in front of my family and your friends, because I think you deserve to have them know how highly I value your sacrifices, made to save our subjects’ lives. However, I want you both to know, now, that if you decide not to accept what I offer you, it will have no negative impact. It will be your choice. Too many people have tried to take away your choices before now. Do you understand?"

Both men nodded slowly. Harry wondered what the Muggle Queen could be offering. She smiled and stood up.

"William, Harry, Charles. Would you please step over here?"

The crown prince and his two sons, both just slightly younger than Harry, joined the three as Elizabeth stood up again. She gathered the attention of the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, wizards and witches, human and Goblin. Welcome to Buckingham Palace, and my family and I are very pleased indeed to meet you. I hope to spend some time with all of you before you leave today, and I invite you all to visit us when you like - for there have been too few meetings between your world and mine."

"These two men... Severus, Lord Prince, and the young man you all know as Lord Harry, have been to the depths of hell and back on behalf of us all. Let us all acknowledge their courage and sacrifice. May God bless them, may they have lives of peace and prosperity, may they have that which they most want."

"Amen," said Minerva, smiling. "No one deserves it more than they."

"We agree," Elizabeth replied. "And we understand that they have been granted peace and safety in the magical world. We, in turn, propose to offer them safe sanctuary in the mundane world, if they should ever need or want it. To do so, we bestow two gifts.

"Severus, Lord Prince in the magical world," she said, "We are given to understand that you are almost certainly descended from the last Lordly Prince of Wales, Llewellyn himself. We find the evidence concrete enough to have no reservations in bestowing upon you, by right of monarch's gift, the Manor of Llanovor Caer Myrrdin in Wales.”

“Your majesty, I cannot possibly…”

“Never mind, young Severus! As Duke of Llanovor Caer Myrrdin you are now considered a member of the Royal Family, and safe as houses. And, speaking of houses, Llanovor Manor is one of the finest stately homes in Britain, and is one of the only ones not open to the public. It has an important magical history as well, purportedly being near or over the site of the last resting place of Merlin himself. Please don't make it invisible."

Severus had grown pale.

"Your Majesty, I..."

"Don't interrupt royalty, my young friend. It's very bad manners. So, your mundane title is now Duke Llanovor, while your magical one is even more impressive: His Grace Severus, Lord Prince, Duke of Llanovor Caer Myrrdin. Sounds rather nice, doesn’t it?”

Severus was speechless. Harry grinned up at him. “I’m so pleased that you’re finally being recognized, Severus.”

“Indeed. A spy for so many years deserves a great reward from us. As for you, young Harry, we are given to understand that you are wealthy in your own right, and own several properties, so we will not be gifting you in that way.”

“Ma’am, I have more than I could ever need. I’m just pleased for Severus.”

“Yes, it does you credit. Now, for both of you: In recognition of acts of most conspicuous bravery, daring and pre-eminent acts of valour and self-sacrifice in the presence of the enemy, I present you with the Victoria Cross. Further, you are both now named as Knights of the Royal Victorian Order.”

As their friends quietly applauded, Her Majesty pinned the honours to the front of the two men’s robes, and then shook their hands. “Thank you both.”

Gobsmacked, Harry followed Severus’ example and bowed. When he looked up again, the Queen was smiling at him. “Congratulations. Moving forward," she said briskly, "let's have lunch. I'm starved. And, I want a chance to talk with all of you. Come along, young Lord Harry.”

Her Majesty walked off toward a door at the far end of the room, and the rest of the group followed behind. “Harry, I am told that you and the Duke of Llanovor have been staying at an island home of yours in the Caribbean, and that it is Unplottable. Does that mean, perchance, that the paparazzi cannot find it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied. “No one can find it, wizard or mu.. mundane.”

"The correct appellation is just ‘ma’am’," she replied, and smiled. "That would be a great blessing to my family. Do you suppose that we mere Muggles might be able to take advantage of things that were Unplottable?"

"Well, sure, um, ma’am," he said shyly. "We could set up some portkeys to our place. I think. However, it might be nice for you to have your own places, too. I'd ward them for you."

"How does that work?" The various parties began seating themselves on either side of a long table, as serving platters were brought into the room.

"Well, with a properly protected property only a person keyed to the wards can enter. So if I didn't want someone to visit, I wouldn't key them. Or, more properly, I would key everyone I did want to visit.” Harry, following the example set by the young Princes, carefully unfolded his napkin as a plate of food was set in front of him.

"Fascinating!"

"Harry, a moment." Severus looked concerned. "Ma'am, I'm worried that Harry is breaking the law right now. The Statute for Secrecy, although very old, was actually designed not only to protect wizard-kind but also to prevent mundanes from seeking magical answers to their problems. If you have a problem with the paparazzi, shouldn't you be addressing it directly in the mundane world?"

There was a short silence, and then Her Majesty smiled. "You are absolutely right, Severus. Let me backtrack and just say that I am first of all pleased that you two have such a lovely retreat, and let you know that if you can see your way to providing any sort of sanctuary where my family can be themselves without fear, we would appreciate it. My grandsons, in particular, would welcome the respite. However, Harry my dear, you are young and should be guided out of error by Severus. With whom can I review the contents of your 'Statute of Secrecy’?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt is your man," Tightfist said. "And although Severus is correct in the letter of the law, the interpretation certainly wouldn’t extend to the Royal Family. If you, and yours, were Silenced on the issue, you could be aided by any number of Wizarding remedies and not infringe on the statute, due to you being royalty. I think your own ancestor, Henry the Second, was the ruling muggle signatory. 1168, or thereabouts. Wrote it up with Thomas a Becket. Goblin who helped found Oxford."

Severus slowly smiled. "Director Tightfist, you're a genius. Majesty, he is speaking of a simple "I tell no one” spell, which would keep anyone from being able to talk about the wards, Unplottability, and so forth."

Harry grinned, as he noticed Severus waving his wand discreetly beneath the table as he spoke. "That's great! I'd love to help you. I was raised mundane, and I know what a pain the press is for you."

 "Then, we shall talk further after lunch. Dig in, Harry. And, you should know that your honours will be listed in the next issue of the Gazette, by the way. Are there any publications in the magical world that you would like us to leak the news to?”

“Miss Lovegood, here, is the senior editor of one of my favourite papers,” Harry said. “Luna?”

Luna nodded politely. “I’ll write up the story myself, Majesty, directly after lunch, for the morning edition of the Quibbler. Have you got an owl?”

“An owl?”

“Oh dear,” Minerva said, setting down her knife and fork. “When this news hits the papers, Her Majesty might find herself inundated with owls. Perhaps we might want to put up some anti-owl wards for the Palace? Or at least a re-direct?”

The older adult magicals stared at her, then nodded as one, exchanging looks. Elizabeth Regina glanced around with a slight frown. “I don’t understand the problem,” she said.

“Your Majesty,” Minerva replied, “we are just going to cast a few spells to prevent you from being the victims of an avalanche of magical mail. With your permission?”

“We have a mail service.”

“Ma’am,” Harry said, “with all due respect, we don’t send mail through the post. We use owls. And trust me, you don’t want the mess and the hassle.”

“Owls? I should like to see that.”

“We can arrange so that you do, but safely and discreetly.” Severus put down his fork and tapped the table with a finger, addressing the Queen directly. “We should set a general owl ward, and then key it to recognize certain owls, our own in particular. We’ll give your family a couple of tips about how to avoid common problems, and then, if you like, we can provide you with a post owl of your own so that you can send mail to us. We’ll make the ward open at only one window – would this one be right? Mail usually arrives at breakfast time, but if an owl finds the window closed at other times it will return the next day at breakfast. Any other mundane coming in would see the owl but not recognize the post. Or we can open a different window, or even part of the roof?”

“A post owl. How marvellous. I think that this room would be fine. I should like to receive the Wizarding newspapers at breakfast, and no English person is ever served at breakfast, so chances of it being spotted by outsiders would be slim. Please go ahead.”

“Harry, if you wouldn’t mind,” Severus said softly. “I believe that, with your experience of old Tom, you have much the best spell for a good owl ward.”

Harry looked up, startled, and then his eyes went out of focus for a long moment. He dabbed his napkin against his lips and nodded “Yes, I have just the thing. Majesty, it would be best if I could be on the roof so that I can see in every direction. Is that possible?”

“I believe so. May I come with you?”

“If you wish, ma’am, of course,” he said diffidently. “Although there won’t be much to see.”

“We’ll all go,” Minerva said.

Luna smiled at them. “Of course we will. Don’t you know that a ward is a very pretty thing to watch, Harry?”

After lunch the entire group trouped, laughing and chatting, up the stairs until they reached a small door that led outside among the many chimneys of Buckingham Palace. While the group looked around, pointing out landmarks, Severus bent to talk to Harry, with Arthur and Filius listening. “I think we need something stronger than just an owl ward, Harry,” he said. Harry nodded.

“I think so too, Severus. And I think that, considering what they’ve done in recognizing us, all unwitting of the danger, we need to ward all of their properties. Anywhere they stay on a regular basis. The Death Eaters may be gone, but we still have enemies.”

Arthur and Filius nodded too. “I can take care of that for them,” Filius said.

“Okay. There’s a comprehensive protection ward I will cast,” Harry said, “that will cause any harmfully intended spell of any kind from entering the castle, or any person with ill intent. I think that… yes, it will work for Muggles and magicals, so any Imperioused person would be stopped at the gates as well. I’ll cast it after the owl ward. It’s complex. I think that it will actually stop a car from entering if the occupants are dangerous.”

“Hmmm…” Filius considered. “That might interfere with statecraft, Harry. What word does it use for dangerous?”

“ _Sicario_.”

“Hmmm. From murderer, assassin, killer. That would eliminate many heads of state. Can you tune it to mean only those intending harm to those within these walls or to whom the ward is dedicated?”

Harry considered, gazing at Severus’ eyes. “I believe I can. Do you approve?”

“Yes.”

Harry closed his eyes to gather his strength as he took out his wand. He ran through Tom’s memories one more time to be sure no harm would be done, then he began the simplest ward, the owl post ward, tying it to the breakfast room window.

As he began to chant he heard Luna say, as if a great distance away, “watch above the gates and walls, ma’am. That’s where you’ll see it.”

**

Severus listened to Harry’s complex and careful wards going up, watching in fascination along with everyone else as he turned to the cardinal points and made intricate wand movements. Colours streamed around them, forming over the walls, over the gates, and dripping down the windows. It wasn’t something that Muggles would normally see, but those grouped with the wizards were privileged and saw everything as if gifted, temporarily, with magesight.

“Gosh, that’s even gone down the chimneys,” Prince Charles said. Severus watched with some concern as he realized the amount of energy Harry was putting into this. When he heard the final coda of the last ward, he positioned himself to catch Harry in case of exhaustion.

Silence fell for a moment, and then the group began to applaud. “Harry, that was a lot more than I expected,” Severus whispered, putting an arm around the younger man as he opened his eyes and smiled.

“I like them, Severus,” he answered. “I don’t want any more people to die because of something that happened to me.”

“Young Harry,” Elizabeth Regina said, “I suspect you did more than ward my home against owls, didn’t you?”

“Oh, well, yes… a bit more,” he replied, leaning on Severus as the others gathered around. “But you have enough to deal with among the mundane crazies. You don’t want the magical crazies after you as well. I just set a couple of spells to keep out fanatics who might harm my new friends.”

She smiled and touched his shoulder gently. “You are a dear, dear boy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Let me know if anyone you need inside finds that they can’t enter, or is seriously averse to entering –the magic might not differentiate between a serious political enemy and an assassin.”

Charles laughed. “No more visits from the Prime Minister then, Mummy.” Everyone chuckled.

Harry went on after a moment. “Would it be okay if we did the same thing at your other properties? You know, I could even put up ‘notice me not’ charms that were aimed only at paparazzi…”

Everyone laughed again. Suddenly Harry’s knees gave way and Severus caught him up in his arms. “I think your day out is over, Harry.”

“I’m not arguing.”

**

Both men felt their breath go out with pleasure at the quiet of their home when they finally arrived poolside at Black Island, several days later. It had been an interesting week in Britain, but the microscope had definitely been trained on them, and they hadn’t enjoyed that.

“Thank Merlin we’re back,” Severus said. Harry nodded, eyes watering. “Are you well, Harry?”

“Just glad to be here. It was interesting visiting Sandringham and Balmoral and Windsor and all, but I was getting a little homesick. Although, I would really like to see the property she gave you in Wales. Can we plan to go there? I think it must be really beautiful.”

Severus considered, and nodded. “Have you seen your other properties, Harry?”

“No. I’d like to see everything. But alone. With you. The only other person who never once got on my nerves this week was Luna.”

“She really is marvellous, isn’t she?” Severus turned toward the house, already beginning to shed his English climate clothing and letting it fall behind him. Cloak first, then tie. Harry followed suit. “Yes, Kreacher?”

The elf had appeared, picking up the shirt Severus had dropped. “Master Severus, the house is full of people. Half the Wizengamot is here. Minister Shacklebolt is here.”

Severus glanced up and saw the moving shadows behind the picture window, and continued to unbutton his trousers. “We’ll go up the patio stairs, then, Kreacher. Thanks for the warning. Come on Harry.”

Harry, heartened by Severus’ lack of response, dropped his shirt and began to loosen his vest. “Kreacher, can I have a butterbeer please, a nice cold one? Upstairs.”

Both men entered the private stairway to their bedroom patio, effectively disappearing from the eyes of those watching from the picture window.

At the top of the stairs Harry found himself firmly in Severus’ embrace, being kissed deeply and thoroughly. As Severus’ tongue explored his mouth, his hands clutched Harry’s ass, pulling him against Severus’ very hard cock.

“You excite me. You complete me.”

Harry felt his knees weaken at his lover’s words. He sagged, and Severus let him go slowly to the floor this time, down to his knees. “Severus?”

“Harry?”

“May I taste? I want to learn how to do this…”

The house elves, per their instructions, kept the cold drinks flowing to the guests but supplied no food to the waiting petitioners, no matter their rank.

Within a few hours, most had given up and gone home.

By midnight, the house was empty except for its rightful inhabitants.

Harry got up then and, with Severus holding him tightly, closely warded the island to refuse entry to any magical that wasn’t on the invite list. The list was Arthur, Molly, George, Hermione, Tightfist, Longfingers, Poppy, and Luna.

The mundane royal family would be welcome, by boat or special portkey only.

They were done with public appearances of any kind – Arthur, Hermione, Tightfist or Luna could let them know when there was an important vote coming up in the Wizengamot. Otherwise they didn’t care to be involved.

Except with each other.

**30**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for welcoming my first offering on AO3. I really enjoyed writing and posting, and I thank all of you who clicked a kudo for me. Those who offered comments, I have responded to all of you I hope! I am working on two new story plots, one a very steamy one, another a very genfic one. I realized, last night, that I could make them both work together without any underage stuff… Let’s see what happens!


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